Transformers: All Spark
by Shei B. Kroeker
Summary: Nearly 100 years after the events of Transformers: Cybertron, a new generation of Autobots under the leadership of Blurr must battle the new Decepticons under the leadership of Starscream for the ultimate power in the universe: the All Spark.
1. Prologue: Recap

**Transformers: All SparK**

Written by Sheida McCall, Matthew McCall

& David Mills

Edited by Sheida McCall

Original concept by David Mills

Transformers © Hasbro

Some characters © David Mills & Sheida McCall (list at the end of story)

**Prologue:  
Recap**

It had been nearly one hundred solar cycles since the Battle of the Cyber Planet Keys and Omega Lock and the start of the Space Bridge Expedition lead by Optimus Prime. The objective was to traverse across the vastness of the universe in hopes of constructing a Space Bridge to connect the galaxies. Five planets were directly affected by the events surrounding the Omega Lock: Earth, Velocitron, Gigantion, Jungle Planet, and the Transformers' ancestral home world of Cybertron. When Optimus Prime chose to lead the Space Bridge Expedition, he appointed Jetfire as the Supreme Commander of all Autobots and Cybertron. Crosswise leads the troops on Earth, having kept contact with the descendants of the Transformers' human allies Coby and Lori Hansen. They had long since lost contact with Gigantion and Jungle Planet, though last reports showed Scourge still lead the Beasts and Scavenger lead the Giants. Aside from that, none could say. As for the Speed Planet, Hot Shot now leads the speedsters of Velocitron, having raced against and beat the leader Override just before the Space Bridge Expedition commenced, though at the time, Hot Shot did not realize she had chosen to go with the Expedition team—he was just racing. Their last week together, she finalized his position as the new leader of Velocitron, and confessed feelings towards him that he was not aware even existed, though he himself was quite quick to reciprocate! Therefore, using old Cybertronian traditions, Override and Hot Shot each had portions of their Sparks removed and merged to become sparks for their "children," the first of which was Hotstreak, a practical mirror image of Hot Shot at a younger stellar cycle. Then came Freeride, headstrong and self-conscious, always gunning for attention. Override and Hot Shot loved them both, but Freeride had a bit of a rebellious streak for which she was constantly reprimanded, as Hotstreak showed more self-control—even when showing off for others. It was hard to grant equal praise when one showed proper respect while the other was blatantly defiant. Still, they tried.

In recent days, Hot Shot had begun receiving numerous transmissions from Override on the ship _Ogygia_—that is to say, more than usual. That meant that her team was really close to reaching their destination! Hot Shot took to monitoring the computer terminal for many decacycles, anticipating all of the exciting things his Spark-Mate was witnessing. Then one day during a casual transmission, Override was cut off and the connection was lost. On any normal day, Hot Shot would have assumed it was just a simple power failure, except that just before the link was terminated, there was a deafening explosion…then silence only broken by radio static. He did not have a chance to react when Jetfire on Cybertron appeared on the monitor. He informed the younger 'bot that a strange messenger by the designation "Blaster" reported disaster in all of the four sectors of space where their ships were exploring. Jetfire called for all planet leaders to be sent out to investigate the disturbances. Hot Shot was quick to accept the mission, fearing for Override's safety, but he needed a stand-in to lead Velocitron in his absence. Many saw his son Hotstreak to be the logical choice, but Hot Shot knew of others who would be just as good a choice. Yes, Freeride was one of them; if she could just see past her pride, she would have been a better choice than Hotstreak! Blurr was another; currently second-in-command, Blurr had served by Hot Shot's side for the past fifty stellar cycles, and he could have appointed him leader without argument, but he wanted the decision to be made through a race like all things were on Velocitron. Another still was Siren, a young femme who took residence in Breakdown's shop after the old bot decided to go with the expedition. She had a good reputation as a leader to her friends. Albeit, her leadership was a bit reckless, getting herself and several of her friends—including Freeride—into a motherboard of trouble. Lastly, there was Blade Stryke, a level-headed young femme abandoned by her clan when she was a sparkling. She was wise beyond her stellar cycles—though all the wisdom in the universe cannot stop a young bot from "trying something just once." And even though she practically idolized Siren like an older sister, she has shown time and time again how strong she was both physically and in will-power. They each had their flaws which were counterbalanced with each other's strengths.

There were others quite capable of leading Velocitron, but these five were Hot Shot's top choices. He was not about to just pick anyone, not wishing to show favoritism towards one individual. He truly believed that anyone had the potential to be a great leader, and to prove it, he decided to uphold the Velocitron tradition and declared the planet-wide race: The Velocitron Grad Prix. The prize would be leadership of the planet while Hot Shot went with the other planet leaders to investigate the possible attack on the Space Bridge Explorers. This is where our story begins…


	2. Chapter 1: Training

**Chapter One:  
Training**

The roar of a small engine coupled with the grainy sound of dirt and rocks being kicked up by speeding wheels echoed throughout the small valley that served as a training race track for the fast-paced inhabitants of the planet Velocitron. A single, sleek-black motorcycle zoomed down the broad dirt path, shooting dust up in a massive wave behind in its wake. On the back of the motor bike sat a young woman, just barely twenty-years-old, with black, shoulder length hair wearing slim blue jeans, a black tank top, and off-white sneakers. She also wore black fingerless riding gloves, riding chaps, and helmet, though at the speed she was going, it seemed these precautions more than likely would not protect her much in the event of a crash. Regardless, the woman seemed unaffected by it all—not in the least bit worried about what _could_ happen. A comlink in the woman's helmet beeped and a male voice spoke to her.

_"You guys are hittin' some serious speed out there!"_ the voice said excitedly, _"How's she riding, Max?"_

"Fairly smooth, Dad," the woman, Max, answered, "but we started losing momentum on the last turn….I think her tread's about to go."

_"Hmm…better bring her back in. I'm also showing she's overheating her engine."_

"Probably from trying to compensate the time we lost on the turn. We're coming back in. Max, out," Max shut her comlink off then patted the small consol of the bike and spoke to it, "Let's get back to the garage."

"I'm fine!" the bike protested in a metallic female voice, "I can make it…I can at least _finish_ the course!"

"Blade Stryke," Max responded, allowing her voice to rise in concern, "you're overheating, and your treads are about to disintegrate. Take another obstacle jump, and you're going to lose control and probably throw me off. That won't feel too pleasant."

The motorcycle skidded safely to a halt just before the final jump; "I don't want to do that," she assured.

"Cool," Max smiled in relief, "Don't worry, Blade. You can do the course over later. Let's go get those tires fixed."

The two drove slowly back towards the garage at the start of the training course where a lean, athletically built older man with slightly graying eye length hair was waiting for them. This was Kyle Hansen, a human man from Earth, and the only son of Coby and Lori Hansen. He was roughly forty-five-years-old, but ever youthful and physically active in his daily life. He was exactly six feet tall with pale blue eyes, offsetting against his ivory skin. His gray-green mechanic's coveralls were dusty from wear and had random splotches of grease on the legs and on his bare arms where he had the sleeves rolled up. Even the white towel tucked in the belt loop was hardly identifiable as originally being white from all the work Kyle had been doing today. He appraised Max and Blade Stryke as they pulled into the garage next to him.

"Well, Blade," he grunted as he knelt down to examine Blade Stryke's engine, "When you tried to balance out your time, you put stress on your wheel bearings which were also trying to compensate for the thinning tire treads." He tweaked a few wires in the engine then replaced Blade Stryke's treads before continuing, "That oughtta do it, but I'd advise you not to train anymore today…just to be safe."

"What a bummer, Blade," Max tried to comfort the motorcycle.

Blade Stryke chuckled in slight embarrassment as she transformed from a Buell Firebolt Motorcycle into an eight-foot-tall sentient robot. She was solid black save for a few silver markings and components that glittered softly in the dim light of the garage. The body structure was feminine—as much as could be possible in a race of autonomous robotic life forms—from the womanly chiseled facial features right down to the femininely curved hip joints. Her optics were blue, as was the most commonly seen color amongst the Autobots, a faction of the Transformers' race that upheld justice everywhere they went. Blade Stryke's primary weapons are two black-and-silver swords whose blades were made of a titanium-molybdenum alloy.

"It's my own fault," she said humbly in response to Max's comforting words, "I should have just let the five seconds go…the time could have been made up in a much safer fashion than I had chosen."

At that point, another female robot stood next to Blade Stryke, clamping her servo on Blade Stryke's shoulder joint in a sisterly manner.

"At least you and Max are safe," she said, "we wouldn't get very far in our training without her and her dad."

"We aren't doing anything, Siren" Max chuckled modestly, "You're the ones doing all the work. We're just the pit crew, there to watch your back and make sure you're at one hundred percent for the Grand Prix."

Maxine "Max" Hansen was the only daughter of Kyle Hansen and his wife, and as stated before, she recently turned twenty-years-of-age. Sporting the same ivory skin and pale blue eyes as her father, she was five feet and seven inches tall with black wavy hair that only hung to her shoulders. Her frame was of average size, though well built from doing mechanic-style work just like Kyle as well as some martial arts. Max used to listen to bedtime stories about the Transformers from her grandmother Lori Hansen, and she never thought she would actually get the chance to work with them as her parents and grandparents had until she was brought to Velocitron for spring break back when she was thirteen. Now she was helping them train for one of the most important events of their culture. Max also has a younger twin brother Zak and a much younger brother, Danny.

Siren, the femme who praised Max, was a blue, white, and gold motorcycle in her vehicle mode—not anything earthly familiar, but rather futuristic-looking since she did not really desire a human vehicle form as some of the other bots had. She was several centimeters taller than Blade Stryke and tended to treat her like a kid sister, though they were in no way related in the sense of their creation. Siren's primary weapon is her voice, which can be used as a luring device to hypnotize enemies and drag them to their doom, like the sirens or mermaids of old human lore. It takes an extremely strong mental core to ignore her alluring call.

"Be that as it may," she reiterated, "we'd all be in a scrap yard if not for the skill of you humans. I can't imagine what our race was like before our ancestors came in contact with Earthlings."

"Probably the same as us humans before we gained technology," Max joked, "but enough about that…we still have a lot of training to do. Where's Hotstreak? It's his turn on the track."

Siren thrust her thumb behind her as two new vehicles approached. One was a sky blue Chrysler ME 4-12 and the other a military-grey M1117 armored security tank. The Chrysler, which was Hotstreak immediately headed to the beginning of the race track, and Max followed with the intent to ride inside Hotstreak so she could monitor his progress.

"All right!" Hotstreak howled with a rush of excitement, "It's about time! Watch me tear this track up!" and just as Max reached for the door handle, Hotstreak took off, leaving the human standing in his dust!

The armored truck—which was Freeride, Hotstreak's sister—then transformed into robot mode and shouted after Hotstreak; "Slaggin' show-off!"

When the shock wore off, Max stormed back into the garage, cursing Hotstreak as she went; "When I get my hands on that mech, I am going to rewire his hard drive so badly his head will fall off every time he transforms! Who does he think he is, just driving off like that? MEN! They're all alike no matter what species they are!"

Blade Stryke stifled a laugh as she turned to Kyle; "Your daughter's going on one of her rants again," she said.

Kyle only sighed as he ran to catch up with Max; "It's okay, honey," he chuckled as he placed a calming hand on his daughter's shoulder, "We can monitor him from here. It won't be as effective, but we can do what we can. Now, let's contact him on the com." He flipped a switch on the communications consol, opening a line to the hot-headed bot on the track; "Hotstreak," he chortled, "how's it going out there?"

_"Woohoo!"_ came the thrilled response, _"I'm having fun out here!"_

"Yeah, kid, sounds like it…um, did you realize you left Max behind?"

_"Wow! I thought I felt a bit light!"_ Hotstreak laughed childishly.

"Oh, no he didn't!" Max growled as she plowed past her father, practically climbing on top of the communications consol, and yelled into the comlink, "That better not be a crack at me, you overgrown smurf! I am not nearly heavy enough to make a difference! Besides, I am supposed to be monitoring your systems and making sure you can handle obstacles…including a little extra weight! And another thing—!" A soft warning alarm distracted Max from her tirade, "Hey, Hotstreak, there's a lot of heat coming from your radials…what are you doing?"

_"Doughnuts! It's a good warm up for the obstacle course!"_

"Well, stop it," Max scorned, "it's not good for your treads and wheel bearings."

_"Lighten up, will ya, Max? I'll be fine!"_

"Well, fine then. I'll be expecting a full-blown apology when you go flying off the racetrack!"

Kyle quickly regained control of the comlink, softly but forcefully pushing Max aside; "Too late to worry about that," he said then addressed Hotstreak, "Hotstreak, I've got the timer set up for you, just tell me when you're ready to begin the course."

_"You kiddin'? I was born ready!"_

With a smile, Kyle counted down: "Three…two…one…GO!"

The roar of Hotstreak's engine flooded the garage through the large speakers as the young bot began the course. On the monitor, Kyle, Max, and the three femme bots watched Hotstreak fly down the dirt track, whooping and hollering in exhilaration all the way. He suddenly yelled out in fright as he temporarily spun out of control, but he quickly regained his ground and resumed laughing in random bursts of excitement.

"Hotstreak?" Kyle called.

_"Heh,"_ Hotstreak chuckled modestly, _"I'm okay. I'm coming back in."_ He came skidding to a stop in the garage just centimeters away from the group waiting for him. He chuckled again as he addressed Max; "All right, Max. I'm big enough to admit when I'm wrong. I did almost go off the track from lack of traction in my treads…but I _did_ manage to finish the course! Ow! Hey, what was that for?"

Max had sprinted over the Hotstreak and kicked his rear hubcap as hard as she could; "_That_," she emphasized, "is for being stupid and taking the track without me to properly monitor you, and _this_—" she kicked him again, "—is for calling me fat!"

"Hey, take it easy!" Hotstreak protested as he transformed to robot mode, "Geez, I just got a little overexcited…I said I was sorry."

The ever-exuberant Hotstreak was the first sparkling of Hot Shot and Override. His vehicle mode was that of a sky-blue Chrysler ME 4-12, a mode similar to what his father had prior to obtaining his M1117 armored truck model. He possessed just about all the confidence and self-assurance that Hot Shot had in his youth, though his tendency was to test and overstep his boundaries. This, as one may imagine, typically got him in trouble, but it seemed nothing could ever get his spirits down, regardless. In his robot mode, Hotstreak stood at a good ten feet in height, and his primary weapons were two arm-mounted laser cannons, a solitary blaster cannon, and his bare servos. Every now and then, he would just use whatever was lying around as a weapon if he needed to.

"You made it in thirteen nano cycles, Hotstreak," Kyle spoke up once Max was finished giving the mech an earful, "That's four cycles less than Blade Stryke, meaning even if she'd made up that five she lost, you'd still have outraced her by one nano."

"Well all right!"

"Shh, Kyle," Freeride bantered sarcastically, "it'll all go to his already swelled cerebral core!"

Everyone laughed, taking it as a joke, but Hotstreak knew his sister was being serious, as much as she tried to make it sound like jest.

Freeride, the second of Hot Shot and Override's sparklings, was an overly headstrong and self-conscious female Autobot, whose vehicle mode was that of a military-grey M 1117 armored truck, mirroring the alternate mode her father took following a near-fatal encounter against Megatron, the lost leader of the now-disbanded Decepticons. Siren was her best friend, though she found it rather difficult to connect with Siren's adopted sister Blade Stryke. Freeride only really wanted to be noticed by Hot Shot as much as she thought Hotstreak was, but it seemed the harder she tried to get his attention, the more trouble she got into. In her robot mode, she stood half a meter taller than Hotstreak, though that was mostly due to the massive tank armor that covered her robotic structure. Her primary weapon is a back-mounted mega-cannon and twin arm-mounted laser blasters.

"Well," Hotstreak said, "to be fair, the training course isn't quite sufficient enough to _really_ decide who the sickest racer on Velocitron is." Everyone shot a perplexed look as he went on, "Think about it! The test track is only good for preparing us for _maybe_ the first five hundred miles of the Grand Prix, but I know of an ultimate track to test our still-hidden abilities. It'll be ultra-gear!"

Freeride raised an optic ridge in skepticism; "And just what stretch of desert is so 'ultra gear,' that it's more unique than any other length of dirt on this planet?"

"It's exclusive," Hotstreak edged slowly, "because it's _Seta Alpha Five_!"

Freeride suddenly went rigid; "No," she said sternly, "no! It's out of the question! That area is restricted; Dad would have our CPUs fried if he found out!"

"O_kay_," Hotstreak chuckled slyly, "so we just won't tell him about it; he doesn't need to know. Besides, there haven't been any incidents around that area for fifty or sixty stellar cycles. It can't be as dangerous as the files claim."

He laughed tauntingly as he transformed to vehicle mode prepared to go to this new location he was so excited about. Freeride scrutinized him. She was bound and determined to keep Hotstreak from going to restricted land—or see him reprimanded.

"There are restrictions for a reason, Hotstreak," she scowled.

"Haha! Is that a hint of concern I detect in that vocal processor of yours, dear sister? C'mon! It'll be fun; you'll see."

Freeride sighed in annoyance; "Not me," she said with a flippant wave of her hand, "If you think just the _potential_ to get killed is 'fun,' I'd hate to wonder what you'll think when it actually happens."

Hotstreak groaned impatiently as drove to the garage exit. Everyone knew he would go with or without a partner. That was just the way he was. He rarely gave thought to the consequences of his actions until they were staring him right in the face. After a couple of seconds, Blade Stryke pulled up next to him in her motorcycle mode like _she_ was going with him. Siren—who up to this point had been completely unbiased on the whole situation—was suddenly a bit concerned.

"What are you doing, Blade?" she asked, "You're not actually thinking about going, too, are you?"

"Well," Blade Stryke answered, "if it really is as dangerous as Freeride says, then we can't very well let him go alone. Someone's gotta go and watch his back."

"Yeah," Freeride scoffed, "but who's gonna watch yours? Him?"

There was a brief moment of awkward silence following that little bit. Freeride's words were so full of contempt for Hotstreak's danger-seeking attitude and total disregard for rules and restrictions, and it was only doubled when Blade Stryke decided to go with him.

"I'd certainly like to think so," Blade Stryke replied with disappointment, "wouldn't you?"

Freeride only scoffed again; her trust in her brother was less than non-existent. Hotstreak would have protested right then and there if Blade Stryke had not spoken up again; "Regardless," she sighed, "we all know he'll go with or without us. It's better that one of us just go with him and make sure he doesn't get in over his head. You guys can stay here, and if by chance we run into trouble, we'll radio you, okay?"

That helped ease the tension in the garage a little as Freeride and Siren finally agreed to Blade Stryke's terms. She and Hotstreak immediately took off.

"Just so you know," Blade Stryke said once they were out of ear-shot from the rest of the group, "I think this is a really stupid idea."

"Then why did ya come along?" Hotstreak asked with a teasing laugh.

"Because you're the one _being_ stupid."

"Oh…so the fact that I beat you by four nano cycles has nothing to do with it?"

Blade Stryke laughed, temporarily forgetting the concerns Freeride and Siren had; "I'm going to make you eat those words, mech!"

The two of them accelerated down the long dirt path that lead to the restricted areas of Velocitron. Lurking in the shadows outside of the garage was an unfamiliar vehicle sitting just out of sight of anyone who might get curious. It was a sleek, black car with green and gold tribal markings—it looked like a modified Dodge Charger R/T Coupe—and sitting in what would normally be the driver's seat sat a tan-complexioned man with black hair dressed in the tattered clothing of a drifter. They were watching the ME 4-12 and the Buell Firebolt race off to an unknown destination.

"All right," the car said with a gruff southern accent, "the man put you in charge of this shindig, Grant…what's the plan?"

Terrance Grant rubbed his smooth chin in thought; "Those bots there, Lockdown," he said in a grungy voice, "they match the descriptions of two of the top contenders in the Grand Prix. Our…'clients'…what them disposed of."

"Now that's my kind of clientele," Lockdown chortled, "Let's do what we do best!"

Upon Grant's instruction, Lockdown began to follow Hotstreak and Blade Stryke at a discreet distance.

***

Back in the garage, Max and Siren became curious about the topic of _Seta Alpha Five_.

"Freeride," Max said, "What exactly is this '_Seta Alpha Five_'?"

"Yeah," Siren added, "I've lived on Velocitron nearly ten stellar cycles, and I've never heard of it."

"Stupid brother," Freeride mumbled before addressing the questions, "_Seta Alpha Five_," she answered clearing her vocal resonator, "used to be the most challenging obstacle in the Velocitron Grand Prix—which as you all already know is the most anticipated planet-wide race of our history. That obstacle zone was so narrow only one bot could pass through it at a time. This made the ravine jump difficult to land properly because you had to adjust your speed to whomever was in front of you.

"Seventy stellar cycles ago, when Megatron, Optimus Prime and their factions of Autobots and Decepticons first came to Velocitron searching for the Cyber Planet Keys, something happened—_Seta Alpha Five_ began eroding at an unnatural pace. The organic _and_ cybernetic life forms in that area were somehow exposed to an unknown mutagenic toxin which twisted and deteriorated their bodies and natural behaviors. Even the terrain was affected as roads and mountains crumbled like piles of dirt until the only thing that stood recognizable was the _Alpha Five Ramp_ that once shot bots over the _Seta Ravine_. However it wasn't until the _725__th__ Tri-Annual Velocitron Grand Prix_ that a viable planet-wide threat was fully realized." Freeride paused for a moment as she accessed the _Seta Alpha Five_ data tracks for visual reference; "We don't know the exact cause of the mutagen," she continued, "but the top theory to this day is atmospheric contamination from the arrival of the Autobots and Decepticons, because nothing had broken through the Velocitronian atmosphere prior to that aside from the first pilgrims to the planet."

"What happened at the _725__th_?" Max asked curiously.

"Basically, the _Alpha Five Ramp_ over the _Seta Ravine_ and most of the road leading to it finally disintegrated," was the answer, "Of the fifty competitors in the race, ten didn't make the finish line because they had fallen to the bottom of the ravine when pretty much half the terrain crumbled and collapsed beneath them. It took nearly the entire population of Velocitron an entire solar cycle—maybe two, give or take a few hours—just to locate and rescue four racers, all of whom were already showing signs of the mutagenic effects of whatever was down there. When the med-bots finally got the racers to calm down, they began giving their reports of what happened, going on about strange creatures that attacked them. Five of the last missing six were said to have had their sparks removed and devoured by these creatures, leading investigators to believe that the 'monsters' were mutated Transformers. There was never any trace of the sixth bot, witnessed or otherwise."

Kyle scratched his chin in confusion; "Hotstreak must already know about all that," he stated as an absolution rather than a question, "so then what is compelling him to go there to train if it's so dangerous?"

"A thrill, I guess. It's usually daredevils and fools that go and attempt to jump the ravine off what's left of the ramp, and it's normally with a surveillance team to keep them from being lost in the toxic depths. There motivation is usually the attention of a femme."

"Do you think Hotstreak might—?" Max began.

"Nah," Freeride cut her off, waving her hand dismissively at the incomplete thought, "He won't try to show off to a femme he already knows he can't impress. He just wants to race."

"Then why get so bent out of shape about it?"

Freeride chuckled in spite of herself; "Hotstreak does a lot of stupid things that really grind my gears," she said, "and it irritates me even more that he hardly ever seems to get caught for them. However, he's still my big brother—well, technically speaking, of course—and he's covered for my skid plate more times than I have a right to shake a stick at."

A wave of understanding filled the garage. Freeride would never have openly admitted it to Hotstreak, but it seemed she truly worried about him just as much as she envied him. However, it was such a rare display of admirable emotion for her that the moment passed rather quickly.

"Brother or not," she chimed with a chuckle, "I hope his face mutates into molten slag for this act of idiocy!"

Everyone joined her in laughter…this time, she really was joking, and they could tell.


	3. Chapter 2: Road Rage of the Seta Ravine

**Chapter Two:  
Road Rage of the Seta Ravine**

The mountainous scenery of Velocitron's back roads flashed by Hotstreak and Blade Stryke like a passing dream as the two young Autobots raced down the unpopulated dirt highway, kicking up dust and rocks in their wake. They were still several kilometers away from their destination, neither one even close to their top speed.

"Whoo!" Hotstreak shouted in excitement, "This is sweet! Nothing like an open dirt road to really rip it up on, huh, Blade Stryke?"

"Yeah, sure, Hotstreak," Blade Stryke answered seriously, but less enthusiastically, "Just remember we're supposed to be training, not playing around."

"Yeah, yeah, but all work and no play makes Hotstreak a dull bot!"

"Better dull than dead."

"Does that mean I _won't_ be eating my words today?" Hotstreak laughed as he increased his speed just enough that to halfway pass Blade Stryke.

The femme loosened up a little—Hotstreak always knew what to say to get her competitive streak going; "Not even in your dream cycles!" she answered with a chuckle.

"Then c'mon! Let's see if you got what it takes to race against the best of the best!"

"If you're referring to yourself, then you haven't a chance!"

Blade Stryke accelerated without waning, passing Hotstreak to take a true lead, though it was short lived as the mech matched her speed then exceeded it with no effort. Before long, they had both reached maximum velocity, racing at a neck-and-neck stalemate. They no longer seemed to care about outshining one another as it simply became a race for the fun of the game. The road and begun to twist and turn, rise and fall, like a natural rollercoaster, and the thrill was too evident to not acknowledge it.

"Siren and Freeride don't know what they're missing!" Hotstreak called out to Blade Stryke, "This is better than I could have imagined!"

Blade Stryke was enjoying herself too much to respond; she just laughed with the sheer exhilaration of the speed. They were now some five hundred miles from the area collectively known as _Seta Alpha Five_, so they more serious about their game, pushing themselves beyond their limits. They were so into their run that they barely noticed the mysterious red car that had pulled out less than five kilometers in front of them blocking their path…they never even picked him up on radar!

"Watch out!" Blade Stryke called out when she realized the newcomer was not going to move.

"Slag!" Hotstreak called out in alarm.

The two Autobots spun around sideways in an attempt to slow down, but they had been traveling so fast that they actually had to transform as they slid just to gain the friction they needed to come to a complete stop. When they finally did, they found themselves only just centimeters away from touching the broadside of the unknown car. Hotstreak rose to his feet with intense anger mixed with annoyance, helping Blade Stryke up as he went.

"You okay, Blade?" he addressed her as his primary concern.

"Yeah, bro," she grunted, mirroring his frustration, "nothing a good buffering can't fix."

Hotstreak nodded in relief as he turned his attention to the newcomer; "What in the Inferno were you thinking just rolling out in front of us like that?" he was almost shouting, "We could have plowed right through you!"

The mystery bot let out a dark chuckle, one that made Blade Stryke and Hotstreak exchange confused glances; "My mistake, friends," he said as he transformed to robot mode, his voice sounding like his processor was nothing more than a twisted lump of metal, "I was unaware of anyone else running this road…it's restricted, you know."

"What are you, a security bot or something?" Hotstreak scoffed, still miffed at this bot's interference.

"No…just another racer looking for something better than a hand-me-down test track to race on. My designation is…Road Rage."

The Autobots' confusion returned to their faces coupled with an unspoken suspicion. They introduced themselves nonetheless, if for no reason other than to be polite.

In his robot mode, Road Rage was a daunting twelve feet tall, which considering the flatter, compact size of his Dome Zero vehicle mode, seemed rather impossible. The orange flame decals that had decorated his hood and doors in vehicle mode were now visible on his arms, legs and chest plate amidst the dark red paint coat that appeared so dull it did not even reflect the light of Velocitron's sun. His optics were the most baffling, for unlike most Transformers where optics glowed in the bright colors of red, blue, green, and yellow, Road Rage's were an empty grey—lifeless plates of glass like those Transformers whose Sparks had gone to join the Matrix or cast to the Inferno after their demise—with not even a slight glimmer of life to them.

"So what are you _really_ doing out here?" Blade Stryke asked, "There's no way you just accidentally appeared right in front of us like that. Only an incompetent—or suicidal—bot would just sit there knowing they were about to get ripped through."

"You're a clever one, femme," Road Rage chortled, his tone still hollow and deep, "Truth is I followed you from the beginning of the mountain range after noticing you and your friend having a little race. I'd been training for the Grand Prix—as we all probably should be—and figured now'd be a good time to see if anything's paid off." He looked intently as his empty eyes could betray at Hotstreak; "What do you say, kid?" he asked, "Care to test your skills against a real racer?"

"Say what?" Hotstreak was taken aback, "You deliberately almost cause us to crash into you, and now you're challenging me?"

"In a word? Yes…that is, unless you don't have the bolts!"

Hotstreak's pride was stung immediately; "You're so on, pal!"

Blade Stryke quickly stepped between Hotstreak and Road Rage, pushing back against Hotstreak's chest plate to keep him from waylaying into Road Rage; "Whoa! Hold on a nano!" she said, maintaining her position between the two mechs, then she lowered her vocals so that only Hotstreak could hear her, "Hotstreak, I don't think humoring this guy to a race is such a good idea."

"Why not?" Hotstreak asked in aggravated confusion, "He challenged me _and_ questioned my skills! Not to mention you got damaged because of him…I _won't_ let him get away with that!"

"Bro," Blade Stryke persisted urgently, "first of all, the damage can be repaired; it's nothing serious and certainly nothing to get bent out of shape over. Secondly, you _know_ that if were anyone else, I'd back off and let you have your 'glory race,' but there's just something wrong about this guy." Taking in Hotstreak's now curiously perplexed look, she continued, "My scanners never detected his presence prior to him spontaneously appearing in the middle of the road. Now we're staring him in the optics, and I _still_ can't detect his spark energy."

"Maybe your instruments are malfunctioning," he waved her off.

Blade Stryke looked slightly offended; "_My instruments_," she emphasized piously, "are top of the line, designed to be at a constant one hundred percent capacity under any circumstances, same as yours…unless you're telling me _you_ detected him; is that it?"

The question was not asked sarcastically, but rather in worry. Blade Stryke prided herself more on tracking than racing—though the latter was indeed something she loved just as much—and if she were truly the one at fault, then her own skills may come into dispute. However, the sheepish grin that subtly crossed Hotstreak's robotic face eased Blade Stryke of such concerns.

"Well, no," the mech answered admittedly, "but it could be due to any number of reasons. Don't be so paranoid, Blade; it's just a little race."

Road Rage overheard the last bit of the conversation; "What's the matter, femme?" he asked sinisterly, "Afraid your man won't _finish_ the race?"

Blade Stryke whirled around gracefully to face Road Rage and his vacant gaze, a new jolt to her own pride as motivation; "First of all, _friend_," she responded, grinding her jaw joints, "he's _not_ my _man_. Secondly, it's not him _finishing_ that worries me." Then she thought to herself: _It's him _surviving _that I'm concerned about._

"I see…well, if you Sparklings are too scared, then—"

"Scared?!" Hotstreak snapped, "Me? That's it, Blade! I'm taking this guy on right now!"

That last stab at him was the straw that broke the camel's back for Hotstreak, and even Blade Stryke felt the desire to put Road Rage in his place—though she was able to express a little bit more self-control—so she gave in.

"Fine," she sighed, "race him, but I'm going to have Freeride run his designation through Velocitron's data banks."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Hotstreak responded only half-listening as he and Road Rage transformed to vehicle mode and took their starting positions.

"Excellent," Road Rage hissed then addressed Blade Stryke, "now why don't you be a doll and count us off?"

Blade Stryke's resonator whirred in her aggravation from that, but she did not verbally acknowledge the lewd and distasteful comment. Instead, she stood behind the two racers to begin counting them down.

"All right, you two," she said, "this is a simple, straight, two-way race; a five hundred mile stretch from here to the _Alpha Five_ _Ramp_. First one there and back wins. On your marks! Get set!" Blade Stryke raised her hand then brought it down like a chopping axe, "GO!"

Hotstreak and Road Rage peeled out, both swerving slightly on the loose gravel before straightening up and speeding off. Blade Stryke had to cover her optic lenses with her forearm to keep the small rocks and pebbles from shattering them.

"Good luck, Hotstreak," she sighed into open air, "don't do anything _too_ reckless."

After a moment, the young femme opened a channel to Freeride back at the training garage.

* * *

"Okay, guys," Max appraised Siren and Freeride after running both of the femmes through the training course, "you're both at peak performance. This race'll be nothing to ya!"

"You're stellar, Max," Siren complimented, "but you probably already knew that."

Max blushed; "Well," she said, "I'm not one to brag, but thanks."

Freeride stood off to the side, out of the main conversation, and examined all of her joints and rotors; "This is perfect!" she exclaimed, throwing a couple of punches through the air, "I'm sure to win now!"

Max cringed a little at that. She and her father had tried time and time again to break Freeride out of her habit of vying for her father's attention and approval—these were things she already had, but she couldn't see past the scoldings she received to really notice the praises.

"Freeride," Kyle spoke cautiously, "Max and I would like to think that, win or lose, you wouldn't be a bad sport about it."

Freeride shrugged off the plea; "I've got something to prove to everyone," she decreed harshly, "and that is that I'm every bit as capable of leading Velocitron as Hotstreak!"

"No one's questioning that, sister," Siren inputted, "If there were any doubt, you wouldn't be one of the _Top Five_."

"You guys don't understand…all my life cycle I've living in my brother's shadow, but all that _will _change when _I_ cross tha finish line first. No more living _in_ shadows; from then on, I'll be the one _casting_ them!"

Max sighed and shook her head in disappointment; "Whatever you say, Freeride," she pretended to agree then she gave a warning: "just be careful. All that blind ambition could end up being your ultimate undoing."

"Your concern is noted, but I think I can han—" a high-pitched, rapid beeping sound interrupted Freeride's thought, "Oh, now what?" She walked over to the communications console and pressed a green button; "Freeride here," she greeted, "what's your four-one-one?"

_"Freeride,"_ Blade Stryke's normally calm and collected voice came over the channel in a slightly frantic whisper, _"It's Blade Stryke."_

"Blade?" Freeride's demeanor changed to one of genuine concern, "Is everything okay? Is something wrong?"

_"Well,"_ Blade Stryke responded, _"nothing's wrong—not yet anyway. Hotstreak just accepted a challenge from a strange mech I've never seen before and I—"_

"Oh, Blade!" Freeride cut her off, "That's nothing unusual for that mech. I thought it was something serious like…oh, I don't know, 'Hotstreak's face melted to slag,' or something like that."

There was brief silence on the other end before everyone could hear Blade Stryke's stifled laughter; _"You'd _like_ to hear that, I'd wager," _she snickered, _"No, this is serious enough. I need you to run a designation for me: Road Rage."_

Freeride raised an optic ridge; "Road Rage?" she echoed, "I can tell you right now I've never heard that designation before…and I know _a lot _of designations."

_"This one's not registering on my scanners—Hotstreak thought the air out here was making our instruments malfunction, but we all know good and well that that's not possible. This Road Rage is not registering any signs of life."_

"All right, Blade, I'll check it out. Give me a few cycles to look him up okay?"

_"No problem. I'll be standing by."_

Freeride closed the channel and accessed the Velocitron Information Terminal; "Search Designation Road Rage," she requested.

As the computer began to work, Siren appeared suddenly distracted; "That name sounds so familiar," she mused, "Road Rage; where have I heard it before?"

"Probably in one of Old Breakdown's stories," Kyle kidded.

Despite it being a joke, it seemed to jog Siren's memory core; "Yeah, that's right!" she snapped her fingers excitedly, "Good thinking, Kyle! Thanks! Old Breaker once told a story about a bot named Road Rage that hung around Dirt Boss a lot. By Breakdown's description, Road Rage was one ultra gear racer, always coming in the top five at the end of six or seven consecutive Velocitron Grand Prix races."

"But if he was so good," Max spoke up, "how come none of us ever heard of him?"

"Well," Siren shrugged, "you know how Old Breaker was…in his old age, he tended to exaggerate his stories quite a bit."

"We'll see soon enough," Freeride assured as the computer continued searching through the various profiles of the registered citizens of the Speed Planet.

Much to Freeride's dismay, the computer could not act in accordance with the demand; "Information restricted," it informed with a mild female voice, "Authorization required."

"What?" Freeride complained, "That's never happened before. I'm authorized to view everything on the terminal!"

"Please provide designation and personal code to view this file," the computer voice said.

With an annoyed sigh, Freeride complied; "Designation Freeride," she grumbled, "Authorization Code: SB-0413-MM-2006."

"Voice recognition—Designation Freeride—confirmed. Validating authorization code."

"Well, hurry up!"

Freeride had to restrain herself from kicking the console as the computer performed its duty. It took over ten cycles just to corroborate Freeride's code, which only succeeded in irritating the femme even more.

"Authorization complete."

"By the Matrix!" Freeride yelled, "What took so long?!" but she refused to give the terminal a chance to respond before she continued, "Now pull up Designation Road Rage!"

This time the terminal obeyed, displaying first a digital graph of Road Rage's technical data:

Designation: Road Rage

Alt. Mode: Earth-Based Japanese Dome Zero Racecar

ID No.: MM-0628-SM-2006

Strength: ********* 9

Intelligence: ********** 10

Speed: ********** 10

Endurance: ********* 9

Courage: ********* 9

Firepower: ****** 6

Skill: ********* 9

Aside from all that, the profile stated he was ten feet tall, which made sense with his compact vehicle mode. Freeride requested the computer show a portrait of the bot in question, and the terminal did so. In the picture, Road Rage stood tall and proud in his robot mode, his optics gleaming with an orange hue against his chrome face, offsetting the vibrant crimson red of his vehicular armor. On his arms, legs and chest plate, shimmering gold flame decals adorned him.

"Be still my pump!" Siren sighed, softly tapping her chest plate over her Spark cavity, "That is one stellar-looking mech! This can't be the same guy Blade's concerned about…if _he_ is dangerous I'd gladly be his victim!"

Freeride nodded slowly in agreement as she reestablished the connection to Blade Stryke; "Found him, Blade," she said completely breath-taken by the mech's image, "Are you sure this is the same bot Streak's racing?" she forwarded the image to Blade Stryke's data pad, "He doesn't look menacing to me."

_"This looks like him,"_ Blade Stryke confirmed after a nano cycle, _"except the guy I saw looked…well, dead, for the lack of a better term. His colors are dull and reflectionless…and there was no color to his optics. It's like he's not even alive…just existing."_

"Then he must be an imposter," Freeride concluded.

Max was busy studying the profile that was still being displayed on the computer screen; "Freeride," she said urgently, "you need to see this!"

"Hold on a sec, Blade," Freeride said as she muted the channel again. She looked down at Max, "What is it?"

Max pointed to a block of text on the screen; "I think I just found out why this information was restricted," she said, "look at his current status!"

Freeride glanced at it briefly then read the text aloud: _"Road Rage participated in the _725th Tri-Annual Velocitron Grand Prix_. In the final lap, as the toxicity finally took its toll on the planet's geography, _Seta Alpha Five_ fell into complete deterioration. The second half of the _Alpha Five Ramp _and the first half of the landing strip following it disintegrated and collapsed under the weight of the last racers crossing it. Road Rage was one of the ten reported to have fallen to the depths of the _Seta Ravine _and one of the six lost for good. It is unknown whether or not he was one of the bots whose spark was devoured or if he is the one completely unaccounted for. All that is known for sure is his fate was sealed after two stellar cycles of being lost in the ravine."_ Freeride slammed her finger down on the button to reconnect the channel to Blade Stryke; "Blade Stryke!" she shouted frantically, "Patch me to Hotstreak now! He's got to break off from the race!"

_"Redirecting!"_ Blade Stryke responded as the channel went dead temporarily.

_"What is it?!" _Hotstreak's voice suddenly came over the comlink, loud and impatient, _"I'm in the middle of a race! I can't be distracted right now!"_

"Will you shut up and listen to me, you slag-sucking sarian!" Freeride answered offensively, "This is urgent!"

_"Freeride? Sorry…I didn't mean to yell. What is it?"_

"Hotstreak, Road Rage is one of 'The Six'! Even worse: he's the missing 'One'! You need to get away from him! You and Blade Stryke may be in danger! He's been exposed to the mutagen!"

_"What? Are you sure?"_

"The data files don't lie, bro. That guy is supposed to be dead—nothing more than a shell of his former self—by all logical studies of that mutagen…we don't know what mutant Transformers are capable of, so drop the pride and get clear of him!"

There was brief silence, which was almost immediately replaced by laughter; _"Give me a break, Freeride!"_ he said in disbelief, _"Mom and Dad used to tell us those stories when we were Sparklings. That's all they are: stories. There is no 'toxin' out here—we would have detected it immediately. Why do you think there haven't been any incidents out here? That was seventy stellar cycles ago. Stories get exaggerated over time."_

"But Hotstreak, I read—"

_"Gotta go, sis! I've almost got this guy beat! No more horror stories, okay? Hotstreak out!"_

"Hotstreak, wait!" but they were already disconnected, "Argh!! That idiot! What's the point of knowing information if no one believes it when you give it to them! What a glitched circuit!"

"At least tell Blade Stryke to get out of there!" Siren insisted.

"That'd be a waste of Energon," Freeride sighed, "As long as Hotstreak is out there, she'll stay with him to make sure he doesn't get hurt, but what she doesn't understand is that dumb mech won't learn anything until he's turned into a disfigured mutation of himself."

"Well," Max said softly, "maybe—Primus willing—that's not really Road Rage. It really could be some imposter just using the name of the bot."

"I'd hate to take that chance, but you're probably right. The chances of a bot getting out of the ravine on his own is pretty much non-existent. That doesn't change the fact that 'Streak's being irresponsible right now—and immature!"

"Don't worry, Freeride. He'll come around; you'll see."

"I hope you're right, because I have a bad feeling about this."


	4. Chapter 3: Dangerous Company

**Chapter Three:  
Dangerous Company**

The race was getting more intense by the cycle, and Hotstreak's temporary distraction by his sister's communication gave Road Rage the leading advantage. Hotstreak had to go into overdrive just to match Road Rage's speed, racing with nothing to choose between them.

"Hey, kid!" Road Rage called out, laughing tauntingly, "What's the matter? You got sand in your gears? You're lagging behind!"

"I _never_ lag," Hotstreak shouted back as he revved his engine and thrust forward, passing Road Rage with great effort.

Back at the starting line, Blade Stryke was trying to reestablish the connection to Freeride, but she was disappointed to find that the older femme had shut her comlink off. _Oh, man,_ Blade Stryke thought miffed, _Hotstreak must have boiled Freeride's circuits again._ She glanced in the direction that the mechs had traveled for their race, but she had lost visual sight of them almost a mega cycle before. All she could see at this point were the twin pillars of dust that had been and was still being kicked up by them. By her calculations, the mechs still had another two hundred miles to go to reach the _Alpha Five Ramp_ before they would have to turn around and come back to determine a victor. _Good,_ she thought more soundly, _the quicker he gets this out of his system, the quicker we can leave this miserable place._ No sooner had the thought crossed her mind did her scanners pick up two unknown entities heading straight for Hotstreak!

"What?!" she exclaimed as she realized the unknowns were traversing vertically up the ravine, "I knew it! I_ knew _there was something off about this _'race.'_" She contacted Hotstreak immediately; "Hotstreak! Hotstreak! You've got to pull out of the race! NOW!"

_"Awe, Blade,"_ Hotstreak groaned, _"not you, too. Did Freeride tell you to tell me that? Don't believe all those horror stories she's telling, okay?"_

"What?" Blade Stryke asked in confusion, "I don't even know what you're talking about; Freeride shut her comlink off right after you spoke to her. Just listen to me!" she was pleading now as she transformed to vehicle mode and headed for Hotstreak's location, "The race was a set-up! You've got two bogeys coming at you from—aah!"

She was cut off as the front bumper of another vehicle wiped out her rear tire, sending her into a bed of thistles and effectively cutting off her transmission to Hotstreak.

Hotstreak suddenly turned himself sideways, skidding to a halt; "Blade?!" he called through the comlink now in fear for his friend's safety, "What happened, Blade? Are you okay? Blade Stryke!" when no response came, Hotstreak became furious. He transformed to robot mode then jumped in Road Rage's path just as the Dome Zero was rounding the mountain pass; "What is this?" he demanded, "What are you trying to pull?"

Road Rage did not answer. Instead, he backed up slowly against the mountain wall as though he were suddenly scared of the younger bot. However, while Hotstreak's attention and fury were fully focused on his opponent, two other vehicles snuck up from behind, having climbed up from the bottom of the _Seta Ravine._ One was a black muscle car while the other was a black and blue motorcycle, but both were so terribly mangled and mutilated from years of exposure to the mutagen in the ravine that determining exactly what _kind_ of car and motorcycle they were was ultimately impossible. Then without warning, the two new arrivals transformed to their robot modes—which were equally as mutated—and attacked!

"What the—?!" Hotstreak cried out as the creature's tackled him and pinned him to the ground!

Road Rage laughed then transformed as well; "Now that the gang's all here," he chuckled darkly, "allow me to introduce my cohorts: the seething one is Venomous…if you know what's good for you, you won't ask why he's called that. The silent one is Skullgrin. Memorize their faces, boy; they'll be the last ones you'll ever see!"

The creature's were a disgusting sight to behold, there features disfigured from the ravine's unnatural toxin. Venomous had been the muscle car, and in his robot mode he literally looked like he'd just survived a trip to the Inferno. He had many parts melted and welded together, and he had long, jagged, metal teeth jutting from his mouth, which dripped with a strange, fuming liquid that sizzled as it hit the ground. The one called Skullgrin had been the motorcycle and had a skeletal-like face as though the face plate had been ripped clean off, and all that was visible were the steel rod structures and a tangled mess of wires. His teeth were straight enough, though the jaw joint was narrow in the back and broad in the front giving him the appearance of a human skull. They were strong, too. It would take a miracle for Hotstreak to break free of their grip!

Blade Stryke had managed to pull herself from the thistle brush after transforming to robot mode; "Anybody get the number of that bus?" she half joked to herself, "What hit me?"

As she regained her balance and orientation, Blade Stryke noticed the presence of a black and green Dodge Charger R/T Coupe sitting there as though it had been waiting for her to get free of the makeshift trap.

"Who are you?" Blade Stryke inquired angrily, certain that this was the same vehicle that ran her off the road, "Hey! I asked you a question, sarian! Why did you run me off the road? Answer me!"

The Charger ignored Blade Stryke's demands as it revved its engine tauntingly then whirled around at one hundred and eighty degrees before peeling out into the direction where Hotstreak had been racing against Road Rage. The young femme, angry as she now was, wasted no time as she went back to vehicle mode and chased after the Charger. She lost sight of it rather quickly, however. As she rounded the mountain pass, Road Rage's familiar, empty voice had her taking refuge under an outcropping in the cliff face. She peaked out just enough to see Road Rage—as expected—and two new bots—which were possibly the identities she had detected earlier—with Hotstreak at their mercy! Blade Stryke tried to move in to help her friend, but she could see no clear opening…so, reluctantly, she waited and listened. Also, she assessed the situation, making herself familiar with the surroundings and potential threats. At the moment, the Charger was missing in action, but Blade Stryke did not count him out yet. Aside from Road Rage, there were now the two new bots who from their appearance Blade Stryke could only determine that they had been exposed to the alleged mutagen in the area. The big black one with the drooling problem looked to be the most unpredictable while the one with the missing faceplate was probably the ultimate brute force to Road Rage's intelligence. _It would be wise to keep optics on them at all time,_ Blade Stryke thought strategically, _at least until we can get out of here…that is, _if _we can get out of here!_

"I'd say it was a pleasure to meet them," Hotstreak was saying, "but I'm afraid my truth circuits would overload!"

Road Rage tapped Hotstreak on the back of the helm almost playfully; "Careful what you say, kid," he said, "you wouldn't want to hurt these guys' feelings. It would be…against your best interest—and that of your lady friend."

"What? Wait up! This isn't just some arbitrary attack, is it? No, of course not…it's too organized for glitched motherboards like you!"

The drooling creature snarled in Hotstreak's face; "Venomous…doesn't like…little bot's vocal processor…wants to rip it out!"

"Patience, my friend," Road Rage eased, "if you kill him now, he won't learn anything."

"Why are you targeting us?" Hotstreak continued without addressing Venomous, "It's obvious you are, otherwise you wouldn't worry about anyone else who may or may not be with me…"

"Very good observation, kid, after all it's very easy to lure danger-seeking fools out here for the same purposes. You see Venomous and Skullgrin have to feed on Sparks of other Transformers in order to survive since there is no cure or reversal for the mutagenic process that takes place at the bottom of the ravine. Normally, we can pick off a few of the safety crews that come out here to 'protect' the fools still trying to make this jump. This time, the boys were promised some rather strong Sparks if we eliminate the top contenders in the 751st Velocitron Grand Prix…and so far, we've found two!" he nodded to his partners, "Scrap him!"

_There's the opening!_ Blade Stryke thought, _It's now or never! _She shot out of her hiding place at full speed towards Venomous! She wheelied on her rear tire and nailed the black mech square in the chest plate, knocking him several meters away from Hotstreak. Road Rage and Skullgrin ducked for cover as the femme turned back for a second strike.

"Not today, creeps!" she declared as she landed gracefully in front of Hotstreak. Without abandoning her vehicle mode, she turned and faced Hotstreak with concern; "Hotstreak!" she exclaimed as the mech staggered to his feet, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so," the mech answered wearily, "and I'm glad to see you are, too. I'm sorry for not listening earlier."

"Apologize later, bro. We gotta get out of here before there's nothing left of us to give and take forgiveness."

"You should get out while you still can…I'll stay back and—"

"Sorry, no can do, 'Streak. I followed you out here; I intend to follow you back. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Blade, these guys are too strong for us. They're faster, too, apparently. We can't both outrun them, but one of us can distract them while the other goes for help."

"Crazy mech! That's suicide! What if—?" Blade Stryke trailed off as she caught sight of Road Rage coming back up from wherever he had taken cover, "Hotstreak, look out!"

Hotstreak turned around just in time to take a full-powered swing to the chest plate, getting knocked down harshly.

"You should pay more attention to your battles, boy!" Road Rage snarled, confident that his attack had Hotstreak down for the count.

The confidence faded as the younger mech rose up remarkably quickly and stood in front of Blade Stryke defensively. Seeing the damage, Blade Stryke counted Hotstreak lucky. The mech somehow managed to step back just enough to avoid getting his Spark chamber punctured, though he was still hit hard enough to get dented.

"Go, Blade Stryke!" he commanded now.

This time Blade Stryke did not question him. Although she was still unwilling to leave him behind, she took off back towards the main city track of Velocitron. Hotstreak kept his focus on Road Rage now, all his anger fueling his desire to keep Blade Stryke out of danger.

Road Rage laughed; "What did you plan to accomplish by that?" he inquired, "I guess you don't mind dying for your friend…very valiant, but you shouldn't worry too much. We'll take _good care of her_!" At that moment, Venomous and Skullgrin reappeared, and Road Rage shouted at them: "I've got this one…get that femme! Don't let her reach the boundary!"

Skullgrin and Venomous immediately took off after Blade Stryke, but Hotstreak was not having that. He kicked Road Rage down then pulled out his blaster cannon, aiming between the two fleeing mutated bots with the intent of blowing them off the trail. However, that was just the distraction Road Rage needed to regain the upper hand, as he revealed his own blaster and snagged Hotstreak in the shoulder joint!

"I told you to mind your battles!" the monster cackled.

"That's it, Road Rage!" Hotstreak snapped, turning to face Road Rage again, "I'm going to rip your slaggin' spark out!"

"You're welcome to try! Do me a favor, and don't be too disappointed by what you may or may not find in my Spark chamber!"

Hotstreak made the first attack, having the higher ground and fueled rage built within to give him the extra boost. Road Rage did not seem to mind that he was taking all the flack, especially since he appeared to be able to block and dodge all the punches and kicks coming at him. Still, Hotstreak tried…he had to!

* * *

Blade Stryke sped as fast as she could towards the city without ever looking back to see if Hotstreak was okay or if she was being pursued. The latter did not take long to prove as she was forced to turn left to avoid crashing into the large motorcycle creature. Then she was flanked on the left by the muscle car! The motorbike joined in on the right side as well, preventing Blade Stryke from escaping either direction, but she did not seem too worried about that. The mutants closed in on her with intent to crush her between them, but the femme was not stupid enough for that. While there was barely a sliver a space on either side of her, Blade Stryke initiated her breaks, falling behind the mutants as they slammed into each other!

"Whoa!" Blade Stryke shouted triumphantly, "Dumber than advertised!"

She turned back in the direction she was originally going, but found her path was blacked by someone else! It was a ten-foot tall black and green robot standing there with his arms crossed over his chest plate. Blade Stryke realized immediately that it was the Dodge Charger that had attacked her earlier! She wanted to attack him, but when she caught sight of the adult human male standing right next to the Charger, she held back. No matter whose side they were on, as an Autobot Blade Stryke was not permitted to harm humans or put them in any danger for any reason. Going that way was currently out of the question, so she double backed towards the mutants—who were still down from hitting each other—and ramped off them to get a head start in her escape. Venomous and Skullgrin gave no notice to the other bot standing before them. Rather, they returned to the chase, pursuing the femme-bot that made fools of them.

Before long, Blade Stryke realized she could not go any further as the mountain path she took became narrower and narrower until it simply boxed her in. There was no way the mutants were smart enough to know about this trap, otherwise they would have lead her here instead of trying to flatten her between them. Blade Stryke transformed to robot mode and calculated the height of the sheer mountain face. It was completely vertical with several nooks, crannies, and jutting rocks perfect for scaling up the wall. She had no way of fully knowing what was on the other side, since this was uncharted territory after _Seta Alpha Five_ had become forbidden to pass through, but it was her only chance of escaping with her skid plate! Her battle mask came up over her face just below her optics as she began to climb up as quickly as she could. It was times like these that she was grateful to be made of metal rather than some other material, because it allowed her to just create her own footholds in the rock whenever there were none to grasp at.

Blade Stryke was about a quarter of the way up the mountain before part of the rock wall exploded next to her! She held on for dear life, hoping the missile or whatever it was not strong enough to make her fall, but her luck had apparently finally run out. As the dust and smoke was clearing up, Blade Stryke was startled to see that it was not a missile that blew up the wall but actually one of the mutant Transformers—Venomous, she remembered—had jumped up to her level at full force, blowing a hole in the rock face with just the weight of himself. There was no time to react as Venomous snarled viciously, reached over, and wrapped his massive hand over Blade Stryke's face and slammed her back to the ground! It took a couple cycles for Blade Stryke to realize what had happened as she wearily rose to her feet. She was cornered now, the mountain behind her and two angry mutants in front of her. She would have to think fast.

"Two big monsters against one little femme?" she chuckled nervously as she reached for her concealed sword stowed on her back, "Come on, boys, that's not really fair…for you!"

At that moment, her sword was free and swinging! She elegantly used her blade to defend herself against the creatures, but their armor was so hardened that her weapon did little to even scratch them. As the monsters went on the offensive, Blade Stryke had to use her shield as a secondary weapon to prevent from getting beaten down. She was able to hold the monsters off, but she was not successful in landing any strikes of her own. However, Skullgrin got angry and frustrated that the battle was leading nowhere. He used that rage to take control, and with one swift motion he swatted Blade Stryke's sword from her hand and pinned her to the mountain wall.

"Strong essence in your Spark, femme…we feed and survive for many stellar cycles…on…this…Spark!"

Blade Stryke struggled in Skullgrin's grip; "Sorry, bone-daddy," she said sarcastically, "but I'm just not that kind of girl!" She managed to get her arm free and used her shield to crack Skullgrin in the helm, effectively causing him to release her; "Besides," she said as she hit him again, rolled to recover her sword, and landed a blunt-end jab to Venomous' midsection, "it'll never work out between us. I mean, what would the Sparklings look like?"

She dodged a double-teamed attack from both monsters, causing them to crash into each other a second time! _I can't believe they fell for that twice,_ she thought in amusement. Venomous got up first. Growling angrily, he leapt at Blade Stryke who again dodged the assault.

"That would be my cue to get my tailpipes out of here!" she announced as she transformed yet again to vehicle mode and got out of the mountain trap. Venomous and Skullgrin transformed as well and chased Blade Stryke back to where Hotstreak and Road Rage were fighting. Venomous in his eagerness matched Blade Stryke's speed and tried to off-balance her rear tire.

"Venomous…" he spoke with a low, grinding growl, "Venomous hungry…for Spark!"

Blade Stryke took the hit, but successfully maintained control of herself; "Primus, this is getting out of hand!" she patched a link to Hotstreak, "This is a fine mess you've gotten us into, 'Streak. I hope you have a plan to get us out!"

_"I've kinda got…my servos full, Blade," _came the response, _"but…I'm open for…ideas! Besides, I said I was sorry!"_

Blade Stryke laughed at the last bit; "We are in so much trouble," she chuckled wryly.

Just then, the Dodge Charger appeared again! He was in vehicle mode, and he broadsided Blade Stryke for the second time that day! _Doesn't this guy know any other tricks? _she thought as this time she spun out and crashed into the mountain. The Charger transformed and proceeded to yell at the mutants.

"You worthless slag heaps!" he howled, "I practically gift-wrapped these Sparklings for you and you can't even scratch their paint! Must I do everything for you?"

Blade Stryke transformed to robot mode and stood up, slightly dazed; "I don't know who you are," she said softly as she sent a silent distress signal to Freeride and the others, "but you are going to be slag when Hot Shot finds out about this!"

"Ooh, I'm shaking!" the Charger quivered in mockery the addressed the mutants, "Get her; and for pity's sake, do it right this time!"

Outnumbered, Blade Stryke decided on a tactical retreat and took off running towards where Hotstreak was still fighting Road Rage, hoping he was still functional and that help was on its way!

Hotstreak had long since lost the upper hand in his battle against Road Rage, as the larger mech was clearly more advanced in his technique. Hotstreak fell for just a moment, and was relieved to see that Road Rage was not about to take advantage of that.

"Come on, boy!" Road Rage taunted, "Surely you can do better than that! Think about what's at stake here!"

Hotstreak knew what was at stake. He did not have to think about it, because if he did, he would lose his concentration, and he knew Road Rage would capitalize on that moment of weakness. He caught sight of a stray steel rod lying off to the side.

"Careful what you wish for!" he said as he rolled over and seized the rod, "Let's see how much longer you can stand after I disconnect your head from your shoulders!"

Hotstreak went on the attack once again, swinging the rod around like a sword, giving Road Rage a much harder time blocking Hotstreak's makeshift weapon than he did with the boy's bare servos. It did not take long for Hotstreak to notice that Road Rage had carelessly left a vulnerable spot unguarded, and he went for the strike. However, rather than impaling the other mech with the rod, Hotstreak instead rammed his shoulder into Road Rage, knocking him down effectively. He was too honorable to just take Road Rage's life even though he truly deserved it, and not just for what he did to him and Blade Stryke, but also for the other Sparks he and his motley crew extinguished. Hotstreak held his foot atop of Road Rage's chest plate, pinning him to the ground then held the steel rod at the mech's neck joint right above the vocal resonator.

"It's over, Road Rage," he said raggedly, "you've lost. Call those creatures off Blade Stryke now, or else you'll be tapping out Morse Code for the rest of your life cycle!"

"Impressive, boy," Road Rage grinned, "but you should have taken the kill while you had the chance! It'll be your last mistake!"

Road Rage kicked Hotstreak off him as he rolled over and regained his ground. The two mechs went at it again, neither one giving ground to the other. Still, Hotstreak found the same area unguarded, though this time it felt deliberate. Either way, Hotstreak did not take that risk as he struck again, only this time, the rod impaled all the way through Road Rage's chest plate! It was in pure self-defense, but Hotstreak was still beside himself from the violent assault. He had never actually killed anyone before. He shook himself clear of guilt, determined to not let Road Rage make him question himself. The skewered mech staggered back clumsily from the wound.

"You'll find," Hotstreak gasped, "that I'm full of surprises."

Road Rage laughed in apparent weakness; "Funny," he choked, "I was just about to tell you the same thing! Surprise!"

Much to Hotstreak's horror, Road Rage violently pulled the rod from his chest plate to reveal an empty Spark cavity! It all made sense now…the dull colors, the grey optic glass, the twisted metal-sounding processor…Road Rage's mutation literally killed his Spark, but his essence was trapped within his body, unable to unify with the Matrix! If Hotstreak was not in danger, he would have actually felt pity for this bot, but at the moment, he feared for his own Spark! Road Rage knocked the young mech down with his own weapon then he tossed the rod aside and pulled out his own blaster cannon and aimed it at Hotstreak's face.

"Wow, Hotstreak," Road Raged praised him almost sincerely, "you're a lot tougher than you look; seems the Decepticons were right deeming you a threat to them."

"De…cepticons?" Hotstreak echoed slightly dazed, "No…not possible! They've been disbanded for nearly a century!"

"Maybe they just wanted you to think that, kid, but that is of little concern to me!"

Road Rage laughed maliciously, causing the hole in his chest plate to cackle with electricity from the strain. Hotstreak caught sight of a strange blue mist swirling within the puncture, the likes of which he had never seen before. Road Rage seemed to be guarding that area more closely now that it was visible. _That must be what's holding him together,_ he thought too late to really do anything about it, _his weakness. There's no chance to get him now._ _What a way for this to end…_


	5. Chapter 4: Out ot Fryer Into the Fire

**Chapter Four:  
Out of the Fryer, Into the Fire**

Blade Stryke was running as fast as she could in robot mode, thankful that the monsters chasing her were not quite smart enough to realize that they would have been quicker in vehicle mode and could have easily caught her. Whoever the black and green bot was, he would have known better, but he did not involve himself in the chase. _He must be the one who employed them,_ she guessed as she finally cleared the mountains into the open valley of _Seta Alpha Five._ She saw Hotstreak in trouble in his fight with Road Rage, but she never slowed her pace. Less than a mile from where the mechs were, she transformed to vehicle mode in mid-run, gained momentum, and drove between them, turning at just the right angle that dirt and sand were kicked up into Road Rage's optic sensors. Still, she did not stop as she was still trying to elude Skullgrin and Venomous.

"Off your skid plate, Hotstreak!" she called out, reverting back to robot mode and taking up her sword once more, "We're not done yet! We got to hold them off as long as we can until help arrives—that is, assuming they got my distress call."

With Road Rage temporarily blinded, Hotstreak was able to regain his ground. He rolled out of the fire line of Road Rage's blaster and retrieved the rod he had been using; "In that case," he responded to Blade Stryke, "I think I can hold my own a little longer…not that either of us really have a choice!"

Hotstreak went on the attack once again just before Road Rage's sight could return to him, taking the advantage in the fight and focusing heavily on the strange blue mist swimming inside Road Rage's chest plate. Meanwhile, Blade Stryke circled back around the battling mechs, her sword ready, just as Skullgrin reared his ugly head over the valley horizon. Venomous was no longer with him. Blade Stryke theorized that the drooling beast had gotten tired of chasing her, but she was not so foolish as to count him out just yet.

Skullgrin seemed to have forgotten about Blade Stryke the moment he saw Road Rage getting pummeled by Hotstreak. The larger mutant turned away from his original pursuit and began to run to his partner's aid, but forgetting about the femme was a huge mistake! Blade Stryke had been running at full speed in robot mode when she leapt in the air and kicked Skullgrin in his face, knocking him down effectively. It was a clean shot, but all she really succeeded in doing was making him angry as he recovered quickly as though nothing had even happened! Blade Stryke had no time to react as Skullgrin bumrushed her with all his power, sending the small femme careening into the mountain wall. The monstrous mech did not stop there, however; in his rage, he aimed and fired his immense cannon at the mountain, causing a destructive avalanche. Blade Stryke looked up in time to see the danger but not in time to get out of the way. She fell to her knees and crossed her arms over the back of her head as she was buried beneath the massive boulders and clay that drowned out her screams.

"For…your Spark…" Skullgrin spoke, his jaw joints whirring and clicking from the strain of it, "…I…will return, but…first…the boy…"

Hotstreak was battling hard against Road Rage, never giving so much as a hint that he was now targeting the strange blue mist inside the mutant's chest plate. He gave little to no notice to Blade Stryke's battle against Skullgrin until he heard the mountain exploding and his friend screaming out in fear. Hotstreak kicked Road Rage down an hard as he turned around just in time to see Blade Stryke buried beneath the crushing avalanche!

"Blade!" he cried out in worry, "Hold on, Blade! I'm comin'!"

He began to run towards her, but Road Rage unexpectedly came up and swept Hotstreak's feet out from under him. However, Hotstreak did not fall, and much to Road Rage's aggravation, the boy came back with a perfectly aimed uppercut to the mutant's chin, causing him to topple backwards. That was the opportunity Hotstreak needed as Road Rage came back angrily! The Autobot threw the steel rod at the monster who, on impulse, swatted it away with his forearm, leaving his weak spot wide open—just like Hotstreak wanted! Hotstreak took aim with his blaster.

"Not this time!" Hotstreak decreed, firing point blank into Road Rage's damaged chest plate, "You messed with the wrong Autobot!"

Road Rage was stunned by the unanticipated assault; "Wha—?!" he shouted in disbelief as he realized what happened, "No! This wasn't part of the plan! You'll pay for this, boy! Mark my words…you…_will_…pay!"

Road Rage's colors quickly and suddenly became even darker until they turned to the ghastly grey state of death. The blue essence that had occupied the empty Spark chamber abandoned the dying body and disappeared into thin air as what was left of Road Rage disintegrated into dust and blew away with the wind. Disturbing though the sight was, Hotstreak offered no further thought to Road Rage as he dashed towards the last place he had seen Blade Stryke. He never saw Skullgrin until the mutant was right on top of him! The colossal, disfigured bot tackled Hotstreak from the side, and the two of them rolled and tumbled in the hot sand, kicking and punching away at one another, each struggling to gain the upper hand in the fight. It did not take long for Hotstreak to realize that Skullgrin was at least three times more powerful than Road Rage had been as he found that his blaster cannon had no effect on the monster—not even at point-blank range!

Skullgrin eventually pinned the smaller mech down with ease; "Hungry…strong spark!" he howled as he grasped Hotstreak's left shoulder joint with a hold that could shame a vice grip, "Hungry!"

In an instant, the ravenous Transformer ripped Hotstreak's left arm off at its connection! The Autobot screamed out in pain. Sparks flew everywhere from the disconnected wires coming in contact with broken fluid valves. Hotstreak's optics flickered wildly as he fought—and miraculously succeeded—to stay online. He quickly regained his composure then knocked Skullgrin in the jaw with his good arm.

"You can try and take my Spark, you rusted slag heap" he said defiantly, landing another good right hook, "and you might even accomplish that much…but I won't…let you take Blade Stryke, too!"

He went for a kick to Skullgrin's face, but the mutant monster had recovered from the two punches rather quickly and caught Hotstreak's foot just before it could make contact. The larger mech laughed his hollow, clanging laugh as he jammed his heel into Hotstreak's side, pinning him once again.

"I'm getting really tired of being restrained like this!" Hotstreak complained, as he tried to recover without success, "It's becoming ridiculously old…and embarrassing, to say the least!"

"Strong…you may be…" Skullgrin wheezed, putting more pressure upon Hotstreak to cease the struggles, "…but not a…match…for me! Soon…I…will…feast!"

With that, Skullgrin—who still had a firm grip on Hotstreak's foot—took the Autobot's leg at the knee joint, causing him to cry out again. The monster then began stomping on Hotstreak's chest plate in an attempt to force the smaller bot into stasis lock, but Hotstreak refused to give up. He would rather let his Spark extinguish than let it become food for this creature! Just as the thought crossed his mind, a low rumbling sound grasped both mech's attentions. Skullgrin looked over at the boulder pile from his avalanche as the dirt and rocks shifted slightly as something from beneath dug its way to the top. Within seconds, the zenith of the rock mound burst open like an angry volcano, and Blade Stryke broke free of her crushing prison. Her external damages were really not as bad as Hotstreak thought that they would be. Mostly, Blade Stryke's armor had been scrapped badly from being thrown into and buried under rocks. Splotches of the black paint were now covered in silver scratches, her left optic flickered from a minor power leak, and one of the wheels of her vehicle mode had been broken off. A couple of cycles in a Cryogenic Restoration Chamber would fix that up no problem provided the two Autobots could survive this little encounter.

"Miss me, bone-head?" she growled at Skullgrin, "You broke my transformation cog, you slag-suckin' sarian!"

She put all her power into a single charge with her sword up and ready, but she took Skullgrin by surprise as the femme pulled her weapon back and instead slammed her knee into the beast's midsection. That sent him flying several kilometers away, giving her and Hotstreak at least a little time to regain some strength. Unfortunately, Blade Stryke literally gave all she had and nearly collapsed from exhaustion, but she kept herself up just long enough to get to Hotstreak.

"Hotstreak!" she gasped weakly, "Are you still functional?"

"Yeah…I'm okay," he chuckled as he propped himself up on his good arm, "It's…not as…bad as it looks…I promise. Ow!"

Blade Stryke had smacked him in the helm; "Don't even _try _the macho talk, 'Streak," she scolded him, "you _know_ it doesn't work on me."

"Okay, okay! Geez! Did you have to hit me though? I mean, you don't just walk up and wallop an injured person, you know!"

"Well, next time don't act like you're invincible. They can probably see the sparks flying all the way to the training garage, anyway, and you're in no shape to fight if those…those…_things_ decide to come back."

"Well then," Hotstreak observed the distance Skullgrin had been thrown, "good thing you are, right?"

Blade Stryke looked away, placing her hand on the back of her head in embarrassment; "Actually," she said softly, "that last attack took pretty much everything out of me. I only have enough power to keep myself out of stasis lock—maybe to walk back to the city also, but not much else. I can't even use my comlink."

"I still have some power reserved," Hotstreak assured, looking down at his remaining arm, "but if I try to use my comlink, it'll drain my stored Energon too quickly. That Skullgrin character ripped my fuel lines."

Then, without warning, Blade Stryke reached over and opened the power conduit on Hotstreak's chest plate, which startled the mech something fierce!

"Hey!" he shouted, taken completely off guard, "What're you doin'?! Whoa! Ouch!"

In an attempt to pull away from her, Hotstreak had used the arm that had been keeping him upright to push Blade Stryke's away. This caused the mech to lose his balance and fall back to the ground, waving his arm like a wing in a failed effort to stay upright. Blade Stryke could not keep herself from laughing at this sight.

"What did you go and do that for?" the femme asked, still rolling with amusement, "All I was going to do was reroute your power connections so you won't lose energy so quickly."

Hotstreak turned his face from her, slightly humiliated; "You could have warned me, you know," he grumbled, "you freaked me out for a nano…oh, c'mon! It wasn't _that_ funny!"

Blade Stryke was still giggling, though now she was trying her hardest to stifle it; "Sorry, Streak," she said, gaining control over herself, "but what did you _think_ I was doing, silly?"

"I don't know," the mech mumbled barely above a hearable octave.

Blade Stryke shook her head and chuckled again in enjoyment; "Look," she said, "I'm going to try this again, but this time, let's try to lay still, okay? I don't want to cause further damage because you get fidgety."

"No offense, Blade, but I think I'd be more comfortable with a bot who actually has some experience in the field."

"Well, too bad, I'm all you got right now. Besides, Siren and I picked up a few tips and tricks from Clocker at Breakdown's shop. This'll be easier than running the track, so shut up and let me work."

Blade Stryke left no more room for argument as she went back to redirecting Hotstreak's power supply. Considering what little expertise she had, even Hotstreak was impressed by Blade Stryke's improvised patchwork. Blade Stryke was even able to mend the majority of the fluid leaks in the mech's detached arm and leg. She was about to go a step further with repairing those leaky valves when an enormous shadow blotted out the sunlight she needed to see. Blade Stryke froze, terrified by the familiar shape of the silhouette and the unmistakable mechanical breathing of the large, mutated Transformer: Skullgrin! Blade Stryke turned around slowly only to be startled out of her wits by the monster's face just inches from hers, causing the femme to fall back on her skid plate. Skullgrin then rose to his full height, revealing a ridiculously oversized mace and raising it over his head with the intent to smash the femme beneath it! Blade Stryke was too bewildered to even reach for her sword which was only a few inches away from her.

She crossed her arms over her face as the spiked club came down upon her; "Primus, help us!" she cried out.

At the last possible instant, Blade Stryke felt herself being shoved aside out of harm's way, and she hit the ground hard. She looked up to see that Hotstreak had somehow managed to regain enough power to stand—or rather, kneel—using the stub of his wounded leg for balance, albeit a wobbly one. He had also gotten a hold of Blade Stryke's sword and caught Skullgrin's mace before he could make contact with the Autobots. The monster pushed down, but Hotstreak held his ground though it put a lot of strain on his damages.

"Blade!" the smaller mech grunted, "Get out of here, now! I'll hold him off!"

"But I can't lea—!" Blade Stryke began but was interrupted.

"Don't argue with me! Even in this condition, I have more power than you! You've said so yourself!"

"Streak! I'm not leaving you behind! You're going to overload you're Spark!"

"I don't care! I got us into this, and I'm going to make sure you don't pay the price for my foolish pride! Now go!"

Blade Stryke resisted a moment longer, watching helplessly as Skullgrin bore down harder on Hotstreak. He had to call out to her one last time before she finally listened and ran north towards Velocitron's main city. Hotstreak kept his focus on Skullgrin, sparks flying more prominently from his previous injuries. Even still, the young Autobot found the strength to push the larger mech away, though he temporarily lost his balance.

"Looks like you're out of luck," he spat proudly as he recovered his footing, "Blade's far from your reach, and my own Spark is too weak to sustain half of you! You've lost! Go back to the miserable hole you crawled out of!"

Skullgrin roared furiously and swung his mace down on Hotstreak, who dodge-rolled right, shifting his weight accordingly to ensure he was able to arrive back at his kneeling position. Three times Skullgrin swung and Hotstreak dodged until Skullgrin finally wised up, and instead of throwing overhead swings, he swung low in a sweeping motion until he nabbed Hotstreak square in the chest plate. Skullgrin then used his mace—now almost fully embedded in Hotstreak's armor—to lift the Autobot up then slam him back to the ground on his back.

"Yes…" Skullgrin's resonator whirred, "…your Spark…is dying and…no longer a use…to us, but we…have…not lost the…femme!"

He kicked Hotstreak in his side, forcing him to roll over onto his face, then the monster grabbed the Autobot by the helm and pointed to where his dangerous counterpart Venomous had been hiding the whole time. Hotstreak tried to call out to Blade Stryke…to warn her of the imminent danger…but he could no longer summon the strength to do more than watch in defeat.

"Blade Stryke…" he groaned weakly, reaching out with his good arm as though by some miracle he could pull her away from harm.

Blade Stryke kept running, fighting the urge to look back, knowing if she did, she would obey her fist instinct to stay behind and help. There was a soft beeping emanating from her Internal Computer warning her that her power level was dangerously low and that stasis lock was impending. She had to override the command several times before the warning and infernal beeping finally ceased. However, she was so worn out from fighting that the valves and pumps in her knee joints hissed and protested under the tension of overuse.

"My gears are overheating," she said as she pressed on regardless, "I don't think I can keep going like this…"

Even as the words left her processor, the ground beneath Blade Stryke began to tremble. The road started to crack, twist, and rise unnaturally in the mannerism of a quake, shooting sand and loose gravel up in the air much like a grenade on a bombing range. Before Blade Stryke could register what was going on, a large mass of metal sprung up from the ground and attacked!

"Venomous…Hungry!" the monster shouted, "Hungry!"

The femme, scared stiff by the abrupt onslaught, stumbled backwards as Venomous gnashed his jaws at her and barely missed taking her arm at the shoulder. However, Venomous did not need to make precise contact, he showed, as a large glob of the strange fluid dripping from his mouth landed on Blade Stryke's knee joint, smoldering like fire and melding the joint so that the femme was no longer capable of running away.

"Nowhere…to run now…from…Venomous!"

Blade Stryke screamed in pain as the acidic liquid burned through wires and circuits, fusing metal to metal and stiffening her leg to where it was nothing more than dead weight to her. Still, she ignored the pain, hobbling along on her good leg as she tried to escape, still holding out hope that help was on its way. Venomous did not attack the fleeing femme right away, but instead burrowed back into the ground and came up in front of her! He hissed and roared at the same time, showering a mist of his deadly acid at Blade Stryke who instinctively threw her arms up to protect her face. Mostly, the acid fell in small beads causing minimal damage, but larger, more accurate gobbets of the fluid landed on all her major joints—save for one shoulder—incapacitating her further.

"System failure!" her IC cried out fervently, "System failure! All operations: unresponsive! Gears: overheated! Stasis lock commencing in ten cycles!"

Blade Stryke attempted to override the application again only to find that her vocal processor had also been afflicted by Venomous' acid. _Where are Freeride and the others?_ she thought now in despair, _Why haven't they answered my call?_ There was no time left as Blade Stryke fell to the ground, exhausted beyond reason and damaged beyond repair. Venomous was over her in no time, prepared to deliver on final blow…

* * *

Siren was pacing nervously across the full length of the training garage, full of worry, and making Max so uneasy that she had called Clocker to come hang out with them. Clocker was one of the older Autobots who fought alongside Optimus Prime, Hot Shot, and the others during the Battle of the Cyber Planets. Back then, he studied under Breakdown, learning the medical arts, and _since_ then, Clocker had—somewhat—matured, upgrading his armor and vehicle mode from a Ferrari 355 Spider race car to a light blue Nissan Skyline. He came down to the garage to listen to Max explain the training the younger bots were enduring—not that Clocker did not already know. He was just doing Max a courtesy by listening to her so that she would not go crazy from Siren's non-stop pacing.

Kyle had had Hot Shot take him back to Earth via the Space Bridge in order to pick up some extra food and supplies. They had already been gone for some time, and more than likely they would be gone for some time more—at least another two hours—before coming back. That also put Max on edge being the only human on Velocitron. Now, she enjoyed very much being around the Transformers, but there were times when she felt like the odd one out. Normally, she would not be anywhere without her twin brother Zak, but he had been sick the day Max and her father set out for Velocitron three weeks before. Prior to Kyle taking his leave, Max insisted that he bring Zak on his way back, even if he was still sick, to which Kyle made absolutely no promises.

Freeride was running the training course alone. She had found that each time she ran she always fell behind Hotstreak's record time by three nano cycles, which she refused to accept. However, no matter how many times she did it, she could never surpass her brother. She finally just put it to bed for the day. When she walked into the garage, Siren at last stopped her incessant pacing and snapped her head up to look, but when she realized it was just Freeride, she went back to it.

"You're going to wear a trench into the floor if you keep that up," Freeride said to Siren sarcastically, very obviously still unsatisfied with her run.

Siren did not seem to have heard the comment as she finally broke under the stress; "Where are they?!" she yelled throwing her hands in the air in frustration, "Something's wrong…they've been gone too long!"

Max turned away from Clocker and faced Siren; "You ain't kiddin', it _has_ been a while," she agreed, glancing at the clock on her service-lacking cellular phone, "It's been close to five hours. Hotstreak and Blade Stryke should have been back by now."

"No big deal, guys—er, I mean, gals," Clocker said cheerfully, "they probably just lost track of time. Call them on the com. Or better yet, why don't we go to them? Where are they, anyway?"

Freeride, Siren, and Max exchanged panicky glances. They had realized that no one other than the three of them and Kyle knew that Hotstreak and Blade Stryke went into the condemned sector of _Seta Alpha Five_, and Clocker was too high on the totem pole of authority to fill him in on it. Max quickly ran to the communications console to avoid getting anyone into trouble.

"We'll just call," she insisted hastily as she tried to open a channel to the young Autobots.

Max hit problems, however, when neither Hotstreak nor Blade Stryke were answering their comlinks. At first, Max did not say anything for fear of making Siren more edgy than she already was, but when she caught sight of the led light blinking on the consol, she had to say something.

"Who muted the computer?!" she shouted fearfully, "Blade Stryke sent a distress call an hour ago!"

"What?!" Siren went ballistic.

"They're in danger! Blade Stryke sent a coded message saying they were attacked by strange creatures from the bottom of the ravine!"

Clocker suddenly snapped to attention; "Ravine?" he echoed, the common cheer that once occupied his processor had vanished, "Someone please tell me those kids didn't go to where I think they went."

When Max realized what she had done, she clasped both hands over her mouth. The two femme bots remained silent as well, which was enough for Clocker to assume his guess was correct. He took over the communication terminal and contacted Hot Shot who was still on Earth with Kyle.

"Hot Shot, sir," he said dutifully, "this is Clocker at Home Base; do you copy?"

_"Loud and clear, Clocker,"_ Hot Shot answered rather happily, _"How's it going out there?"_

"Not good, I'm afraid, sir," Clocker answered, "It seems your boy and Blade Stryke traversed into _Seta Alpha Five_, reasons currently unknown."

_"What? Hotstreak knows that area is off-limits!"_

"It's worse, sir. They were attacked by the creatures rumored to live in the depths of the _Seta Ravine_, and they've called for aid. Awaiting your orders, sir."

_"Kyle and I are already on the Space Bridge heading back. Be waiting for us!"_

"Yes, sir!" Clocker acknowledged, but when he turned to inform the others, he was stunned to find that they were taking off alone!

"Hop in, Max!" Freeride shouted as she transformed to vehicle mode, "They might be badly damaged!"

Max jumped into the passenger side of the armored truck as she sped off towards _Seta Alpha Five _after Siren who had already left without warning. Clocker called out to them relaying Hot Shot's message, but they would not hear it.

"Sorry, Clocker!" Freeride said, "We don't have time to wait!"

And they were gone. Clocker stood in the empty training garage totally baffled by what had just happened. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well," he said to himself, "guess I better go wait for Hot Shot and hope he doesn't get too steamed over Freeride and Siren's rash actions."


	6. Chapter 5: The Cavalry

**Chapter Five:  
****The Cavalry**

Venomous towered over his helpless prey, still drooling with acid as he prepared to give the ultimate end to the weakened femme Blade Stryke. Having lost all hope for rescue, Blade Stryke still gave one last attempt to signal the others, if only for Hotstreak's sake. She used the one hand that managed to stay free of the incapacitating acid to retrieve a signal flare from one of her storage compartments, anticipating Venomous to swat it from her weakened grip. Like night turning to day, Venomous' predictability paid off as he grasped the already lit flare and chunked it as high as he could into the sky.

"Stasis lock commencing in five nano cycles," Blade Stryke's IC counted down now, "four…three…two…one…shutting down."

Just as Venomous turned back to his quarry, Blade Stryke's optics faded out, and all her gears and systems whirred to a complete halt as stasis lock took over completely.

Hotstreak was forced to watch in deepest regret as Blade Stryke was overpowered and forced to shut down. Venomous roughly picked the femme up at the waist and ran for the ravine, jumping in and disappearing from sight!

"No!" Hotstreak shouted, struggling under Skullgrin's hold, "Blade! I…I failed…I was supposed to have her back, and I failed!"

"Yes…" Skullgrin laughed, "…let that…be the last…memory…in little mech's core!" Skullgrin raised his mace to deliver the final blow, but he got distracted by the sound of approaching engines; "Luck day…for you…" he said to Hotstreak, deciding this group would be too much to handle, "if you…are smart…you won't come…back…for her…"

Skullgrin kicked Hotstreak once more before following after Venomous.

In the shadows, the Decepticon Lockdown and his human counterpart Terrance grant were watching the whole battle. Terrance was not very impressed.

"Well, now" Lockdown spoke up through the tension, "that didn't go very smoothly, did it?"

"I should say not," the human answered a bit annoyed, "These mutant friends of yours are strong, but incredibly stupid. They were supposed to wait until they had _all_ the top racers together and destroy them _all_."

"I told you they weren't very reliable critters, Grant. Venomous is sensitive to strong Sparks and can't be controlled once he's sensed one, but don't get your gears in a knot, I have a 'Plan B.'"

"You'd better, or we'll both be out of a job!"

"Oh, it'll work, trust me."

"Trust you? Like I did with the mutants?"

Lockdown laughed; "Let me put it this way:" he said, "The contract says to get rid of the racers, not technically 'destroy' them…we can get rid of them by turning them against their friends. A living ally is better than a dead enemy, don't you think?"

Terrance pondered this for a moment then smiled; "I like the sound of that," he agreed, "Let's do it, then."

They waited in their hiding spot, totally out of sight, waiting to observe the rescue team that was approaching.

* * *

Freeride caught up to Siren in no time at all, and the two of them drove side-by-side all the way to _Seta Alpha Five_. Freeride had been thinking hard about muting the computer. It was her who did it, and it was because Hotstreak had pretty much told her that her warnings about _Seta Alpha Five_ and the one called Road Rage were not needed. She was thankful that no one pursued that query just yet. Max, riding within Freeride, was still trying to make contact with Hotstreak and Blade Stryke, but to no avail.

"They must be in deep," she said, "All I'm getting from their com frequencies is static. How are we supposed to pinpoint where they are if we can't contact them?"

"I think that should answer your question, Max," Siren answered, "One of them sent a flare!"

Max peered out of Freeride's darkened windshield to see the falling signal flare. Judging by the trajectory, Max figured that Hotstreak and Bade Stryke were one hundred miles to the south of them, so Freeride and Siren turned in that direction and speed up to maximum velocity. Soon, they could see the carnage left in the wake of a small-scale battle, and they began to panic.

"I see Hotstreak!" Max cried out suddenly, "Over there!" Max leapt from Freeride before the femme had a chance to stop and ran to him as fast as she could, mortified by his appearance; "Hotstreak!" she shouted, "Hotstreak, can you hear me? Mega crash! I can't even tell if you're online! Say something!"

"Blade…Stryke…?" Hotstreak groaned, his optics guttering off and on haphazardly.

"No, Streak," Max shook her head, "It's me…Max. I'm here with Siren and Freeride." She looked up at Freeride with worry; "He needs a medic," she said, "My abilities aren't much use here, and his Spark is fading fast!"

"Clocker said Dad was on his way," Freeride assured, "He'll probably bring Towline with him. Can you make sure he lasts that long at least?"

"For Primus' sake, Freeride!" Max shouted wide-eyed, "I'm a mechanic, not a magician! What part of 'he's dying' don't you understand?" She quickly calmed down, shaking her head; "I—I don't know," she stammered, "I may be able to rewire some of his power converters, but that may not do a whole lot of good with two of his appendages being severed off."

"Do what you can," Freeride encouraged, ignoring Max's outburst, "I'm going to scout the area."

Max went to work as Freeride strode off and Siren sat on the opposite side of Hotstreak from Max. Hotstreak kept mumbling "I failed," in a barely audible whisper, which prompted Siren to speak to him.

"Hotstreak," she began as calm as possible so as not to cause Max to mess up, "what happened to Blade Stryke? Where is she?"

Hotstreak twitched at the question, causing his optics to flicker faster, as though the mech were under undesired pressure.

"Must have been pretty bad," Max assumed, "now's probably not a good time to talk to him abou—"

Hotstreak raised his good arm to silence her; "I can…handle it…Max…" he said weakly, "…Blade and Siren are …like sisters…she deserves an…explanation…" he turned to Siren; "I don't know…where they've taken…her, but she was…captured by the creatures…that inhabit the area…and headed south. I tried to…stop them…but they were…too strong…"

Freeride had come running up at that point; "I found some strange tracks heading towards the ravine," she began, but before she could continue, Siren interrupted.

"We have to go after them!" Siren yelled, leaping to her feet, "They've got Blade!"

"What?! Let's go, then!"

Hotstreak reached up for Freeride's arm; "Wait!" he pleaded, "It's…too dangerous…you should wait…for the…others…"

"Sarian!" Siren cursed him, "This was your fault to begin with! You and your glory-chasing! You were supposed to look out for her!"

"She's right," Freeride agreed, "If you had just listened to me for once in your life cycle, none of this would have happened!"

"Guys!" Max attempted to intervene, "Stop it!"

No one heeded her.

"What…about you guys?" Hotstreak shot back, "We…called…for you…Blade said…the comlink was…turned off…So, isn't this…just as much your…fault?"

"Don't blame us!" Freeride was quick to respond, "I told you not to come out here in the first place! C'mon, Siren! We gotta find Blade Stryke!"

They took off towards where the mutants' tracks lead.

"Siren! Freeride!" Max called to them, "Come to your senses! You guy's are letting your emotional chips override your logic circuits!"

The femmes ignore Max's supplications and continue on their way, determined to see their self-appointed mission through. Deterred, Max finally gave up trying to reason with the angry Autobots and concentrated solely on repairing Hotstreak.

"They're right…you know," Hotstreak sighed guiltily, "Max, if I'd just…ignored my urges for an adventure…none of this would have happened."

"Spare me the pity-party," Max stopped him, "it's not your style. I know you better than they do, Hotstreak, and by the looks of you, I'd say you did everything you could to save Blade. I can't picture you surrendering without a fight…and giving your condition, no one can tell me otherwise."

The mech smiled a little; "Well," he said, "you're the only one then."

Max laughed; "Just shut up and let me work!"

"Déjà vu," Hotstreak mumbled, remembering Blade Stryke speaking the same words not too long ago.

"What'd you say?" Max asked, only half listening as the sparks and pops from Hotstreak's injuries drowned out the mech's voice.

"Nothing, never mind…" he said a bit louder, "I'm shutting up."

Max went about her business, repairing several broken wires in Hotstreak's arm socket and making special note of the exceptional temporary patch-ups already done to the circuitry. She assumed Blade Stryke was responsible, but she did not want to bring up the subject, worried that any memories of their experience out here would upset Hotstreak and possibly short circuit him. She finished with the arm socket and immediately went to the knee stub—which, thankfully, was not as bad as the socket—resealed the leaking valves, and reconnect most of the wiring. Hotstreak was keeping his eyes on Freeride and Siren, who were looking over the large hill that stood like a pedestal overlooking the road to the _Alpha Five Ramp_ and _Seta Ravine_, when it all started again. The ground began to shake violently, and a deep, loud roar erupted from below as Skullgrin revealed himself once more! He had been hiding in the sand, rather than retreating to the ravine, in case someone had been foolish enough to try to pursue, and he sprung forth suddenly, startling the two femmes who stumbled backwards to the ground. Without missing a beat, Skullgrin pulled out a large missile launcher—which looked like it was picked off of an unfortunate victim of the Spark-eaters—then aimed and fired at the group!

"Look out!" Hotstreak shouted, "Get down!"

Even as he spoke, Hotstreak forced himself to sit up just long enough to scoop Max into the palm of his good hand, rolling over her to shield her from the explosion. Freeride also took action, grabbing Siren by the shoulder and all but throwing the smaller femme behind her. Skullgrin never gave his action a second thought as the missile shot out from the barrel of the weapon! Although Freeride's armor was thick enough to protect her and Siren from any severe damage, it did not make her heavy enough to avoid getting blown away by the magnitude of power from the missile as it smashed the two of them into the mountain wall with great force! Max was well protected from everything, being cupped beneath Hotstreak's hand plus the fact he used his own body to nullify the attack further, but she could almost feel her eardrums about to burst, the missile as loud as it was. She screamed and covered her ears, falling to her knees to keep her head from spinning due to the unbearable shrieking.

As quickly as it began, it was over. Skullgrin, satisfied with the result of his attack, finally disappeared for good over the hill and into the ravine. Silence filled the air surrounding the valley. Max waited a bit longer before she finally uncovered her ears and stood up. She ended up hitting her head, because Hotstreak did not take into account the human's height when he covered her with his hand.

"Ouch!" she hissed, massaging the top of her head with her forefingers then she called out: "Hotstreak! It's over; you can let me out now! Hotstreak?"

There was no answer. Max could not even here the whirring of Hotstreak's gears anymore, which worried her. She looked around her protective cage until she saw a small sliver of light between the mech's fingers. The opening was just big enough for Max to squeeze out, and when she saw Hotstreak, she went into a panic! The mech's systems had completely shut down, having taken too much damage from the last attack.

"He's gone into Stasis Lock!" she said, "Or worse!" She looked around frantically for the other bots; "Freeride?" she yelled out, "Siren? Where are you guys? Can you guys hear me?"

Crumbling rocks drew Max's attention to the mountainside where she caught sight of Freeride dragging an unconscious Siren out from under the rubble. Both were pretty banged up, but otherwise they seemed all right.

"We're over here!" Freeride called back, "We're okay…well, mostly. I think Siren's in Stasis Lock."

Max dashed over to them, examining their damages; "Looks like you took the brunt of it," she said to Freeride, "and Siren seems fine, too…a few scuffs to the paint, but otherwise intact. Stasis Lock must have commenced due to shock rather than necessity."

"What about 'Streak?" Freeride asked.

Max chewed on her lower lip; "He's beyond repair," she almost choked, "His damages are so extreme that _if_ he actually survives, he'll have to be completely rebuilt—not reformatted—from the ground up. No amount of time in the CR Chamber will have much affect other than prolonging the life of his Spark, but even that won't do any good if Hot Shot and the others don't get here soon."

Then, as if on cue, the sound of fresh engines approached from the north. Freeride had to adjust and magnify her optic sensors to see that far, and sure enough, it was Hot Shot and Clocker—as expected—followed by the medical engineer Towline and Hot Shot's second-in-command Blurr. Hot Shot called the small convoy to a halt not but about five feet away from the wounded Autobots and transformed to robot mode.

Hot Shot was a veteran Autobot originally from the planet Cybertron and not a native of Velocitron. Seventy stellar cycles ago, during the Battle of the Omega Lock, Hot Shot came to Velocitron with fellow Autobot Red Alert under orders from Optimus Prime to locate and attain the Speed Planet's Cyber Key. At the time, the young bot's alternate mode was that of a light blue Chrysler ME 4-12 which was mirrored in his first Sparkling Hotstreak. Following a near-fatal encounter with the Decepticon leader Megatron, Hot Shot was reformatted into his M1117 Armored Security Vehicle becoming one of the three members of the Cybertron Defense Team alongside Red Alert and communications technician Scattershot. He had several shoulder and back-mounted cannons, but preferred using his single, hand-held laser blaster in combat. The details of how he came to be the leader of Velocitron and the creation of Hotstreak and Freeride are mentioned elsewhere and bear no need for repetition here.

Towline was a young Autobot in comparison, having been one of the millions of Cybertron's civilians who fled to Earth for refuge at the start of the Battle of the Omega Lock. At the end of that war, Towline enrolled into the Autobot Academy back on Cybertron gaining skills in the medical field after which he relocated to Velocitron when their top medic, the old Autobot Breakdown, opted to go on the Space Bridge Expedition. Towline transformed into a Cybertronian van, and when he was in robot mode, a portion of his rear half became a stretcher for carrying wounded bots. He rarely used weapons, as combat was not his programming, but he did have a long-range blaster just in case the situation called for it.

Blurr was a veteran like Hot Shot, albeit quite a bit older, give or take a few stellar cycles, but he did not take part in the Cyber Planet Battles. This was due to the fact that, at the time, Blurr was retired from the Autobot Army—not for age reasons, as he was still considered a fairly young soldier—and just wanted some peace and quiet from the constant fighting between the factions. However, when the traitorous Decepticon Starscream set loose the ancient Decepticon monsters, Blurr found that being a soldier and protecting innocents was hardwired into his programming, and he could no longer sit idly by while people were getting hurt. After the war, he became a drill instructor at the Autobot Academy, training fresh new soldiers to replace those who were taking part in the Space Bridge Expedition. When he completed twelve stellar cycles of teaching at the Academy, Blurr resigned and traveled to Velocitron at the request of his old friend Hot Shot. There he was made second-in-command of the planet. He had an alternate mode of a mild blue Maserati MC 12, and his primary weapon was a long-range blaster rifle.

Hot Shot set his gaze directly on Freeride; "I gave specific orders to wait for my arrival, Freeride," he said calmly but authoritatively, "Why did you disobey my command?"

"Because if I hadn't," Freeride unintentionally snapped at him, but she continued in that tone anyway, "Hotstreak would be permanently offline rather than in stasis lock!"

"Okay! Calm down, Freeride!" Hot Shot threw his hands up in defense from the verbal onslaught, "I meant no offense. I have a responsibility as this planet's leader to inquire about disobedience when it occurs. Now, will someone tell me what happened here?"

Max took the initiative here, knowing that in Freeride's angered state, the femme would not be able to give a full and accurate account of the events that took place today. The human girl started at the beginning, first explaining the training schedule for Freeride, Hotstreak, and the others on the test track and the events that inevitably lead to Hotstreak suggesting his dangerous venture out into _Seta Alpha Five_. She left out no details. She explained the reasons for Blade Stryke following the mech out there as a safety protocol, which Siren and Freeride had both refused to do. Nothing was left out of her recollection, including Hotstreak ignoring Freeride's warning about Road Rage and the fact that someone had shut the comlink off causing the distress signal to not be received until it was too late.

"…and then when we got here," Max went on, "we were told that Blade Stryke had been taken and carried back off to the ravine by the creatures that dwell out here. Siren and Freeride tried to go after them, but Hotstreak told them they should wait for you…that it was too dangerous to track the monsters down on their own, but they wouldn't have it. They went the direction Hotstreak had pointed, but all they ended up doing was alerting one of the creatures to our presence, and he attacked us!"

Hot Shot raised an optic ridge at his youngest Sparking; "Is this true, Freeride?"

"Yes, sir," the femme answered sheepishly, but then she quickly went on the defense, "but how could we just do nothing? We weren't even thinking about our own safety!"

"Obviously…"

"They had a better chance of surviving since we came before you…of course, if Hotstreak had just listened to me for once, we'd all still be in one piece back in the city! I'd like to think that a potential planet leader would show a little more responsibility!"

"Freeride," Hot Shot waved her off as he watched Towline and Clocker load up the two wounded bots, "I understand your frustration, but right now, the leadership of Velocitron has dropped to a low priority level until Siren and your brother have been restored and until Blade Stryke has been found."

"Still…I think he should be disqualified. That's a suitable punishment."

"Punishment?" Hot Shot raised his octave a little, "Freeride, look at him! Don't you think he's been punished enough for his mistake? How can you even think about the Grand Prix when you brother and your best friend are in need of attention and with Blade Stryke missing, possibly offline?"

Freeride was nearly floored by the sudden correction; "I—well, I—" she stammered.

"Understand, Freeride," Hot Shot said in a more comforting tone, "I am not going to let this deliberate disregard for the rules go unchecked, but at the moment, Hotstreak and Siren's health is more important than disciplinary action."

"If our places were switched, you'd treat it differently," Freeride mumbled, but Hot Shot heard.

"Freeride, you know that's not tr—" Hot Shot began but was cut off.

"You always look the other way when he does wrong! Every time he does something there's some softening excuse to his actions that makes them more forgivable than if I had done it! It's not fair!"

"That's enough!" Hot Shot yelled this time, startling everyone because it was ultra rare for him to do so, "His actions will be dealt with no differently than when yours are! That should be enough for you unless you think it's better for him to die. Well, do you?"

Freeride stood silently still for a long moment pondering her father's words. She was scared, terrified really, that she was put on the spot like that. Finally she shook her head and turned her optics downwards; "No…," she answered at a terribly low octave, "…no, sir, I don't"  
She helped Towline and Clocker secure Hotstreak and Siren to the trailers and stretchers then retreated to the rear of the convoy, ashamed by her actions, and hurt by her father's words. Hot Shot returned to the head of the convoy and transformed to vehicle mode.

"Let's get them home quickly then," he ordered, "Blurr, gather as many strong bots as you can find and get a search party going. I want to find Blade Stryke before she succumbs to the effects of the toxicity of _Seta Alpha Five_."

"You got it," Blurr answered, transforming as well.

"Max, ride with Towline."

Max nodded; "Okay," she acknowledged sadly, "but Hot Shot, I have to be honest with you…Hotstreak's damages are not likely to be fixed via CR Chamber…his Spark is already fading at a fast pace as his vitals are quickly losing power. There's not much hope of him pulling through this."

"Nonsense," Hot Shot said in denial, "As long as there is a glimmer in a Spark, there is always hope. Team, let's roll out!"

Everyone else transforms to vehicle mode to make better time to the city. Max hopped into Towline's subspace as she was told and continued to monitor Hotstreak's Spark power. Freeride inched along at the rear of the procession, still mulling over he confrontation with Hot Shot when she heard a rustling in a nearby bush. She quickly transformed back to robot and readied her back-mounted cannon and twin arm-mounts.

"Hey there," a voice whispered from the shadows, "So, you wanna step out of your brother's shadow, I hear? I bet I can help with that."

"Who's there?" Freeride demanded cautiously, "Show yourself!"

Out from the brush stepped a tall black and green bot with yellow optics that set high and deep in an elongated face. He had several silver studs decorating his wrist and knuckle joints (and some on his feet) that resembled the kind of spiked jewelry a human youth would wear.

"As you wish, ma'am," the mysterious bot said with a heavy, but deep southern twang.

Looking suspiciously at the stranger, it took Freeride less than half a second to recognize the purple insignia on his chest plate. She did not hesitate this time as she took aim with one of her two frontal weapons.

"Who the slag are you," she growled, "and what are you doing following us?"

"Just calm down, little lady," the outsider smiled as he raised his hands, "and put the blaster away."

Freeride scoffed at him; "Not even if I were suspended over the Inferno by my skid-plate. I may be young, but I've studied enough to know what you are…Decepticon!"

The stranger chuckled deeply, clapping slowly at how quick the femme was to distinguish a potential enemy.

"You're a cleaver girl," he said, "Not very subtle, though. My designation is Lockdown. I have been looking for talent like yours by request of the new Decepticon leader."

"Oh yeah? Well forgive me if I don't just leap at the offer. There's nothing but betrayal amongst you Decepticons…I get that enough from the ones that claim they 'care' about me."

"Is that what they've been teaching you young bots?" Lockdown gasped in false offense, "How unfair. We're all after the same goal; we Decepticons just use more direct approaches to attain it, that's all. Hear me out…um…?"

Freeride vacillated for a moment then answered sharply, "Freeride."

"Right…Freeride. Just listen, okay? What if I told you that I knew where your friend was taken, and only we Decepticons had the means to find her without being affected by the toxin?"

Freeride was more interested now; "Blade Stryke?" she asked in irritation of Lockdown's temptations, "You know where she is? Tell me…tell me, Decepticon, or I'll strip your gears right here!"

Lockdown allowed a sly grin creep across his face. He had the femme now, and he knew it; "I don't think I should do that," he responded sneakily, "I'd hate to get you in trouble with your pops over a little information. Besides, I'm sure you've been trained well not to trust the word of a Decepticon, and your pops would probably think even lesser of you than he already does…"

He let the words hang in the air as he noticed the femme seemed rather swayed by them. Indeed, Freeride's sudden sense of abandonment had fallen upon her once again as she knew all her father's focus would be on Hotstreak's recovery. Nothing else would take priority over that. Freeride lowered her weapon.

"He can't tell me who I can and can't trust," she said defiantly, "especially when he hardly even notices me as it is! I am sick of being second to Hotstreak all the time, and if the only way to surpass him _and _find Blade Stryke is to become a Decepticon, then count me in!"

_Hook, line, and sinker,_ Lockdown thought with a grin; "Good to have you aboard," he chuckled, "There are a few other perks to defecting, too. Follow me to my little base, and I'll explain."

"No, wait," Freeride seemed to hesitate.

Lockdown raised an optic ridge in disappointment; "Having second thoughts already?"

"I'm not like that!" Freeride shouted, a bit insulted, "I just think I have a friend who might be interested in this offer, too."

Lockdown then nodded and smiled deviously; "Ah," he said, "well, the more the merrier, ma'am. Here are the coordinates to my location. Meet me there with your…friend."

Lockdown retreated back into the shadows as he transformed to vehicle mode and drove out of sight. Freeride then turned back towards the city, transformed to vehicle mode, and departed the desert valley.


	7. Chapter 6: Voices in the Dark

**Chapter Six:  
Voices in the Dark**

Deep in the bowels of the_ Seta Ravine_, many caverns wound on for miles lined with catacombs of unnatural design. Each makeshift crypt had piles upon piles of shells of Transformers that had had the misfortune of falling into the ravine or being captured by the monsters that lived in the deeps of the tunnels. Blade Stryke had been cast upon one of these such mounds as the mutated Transformers Skullgrin and Venomous squabbled over the spoils of their catch, both having completely forgotten about their former leader Road Rage.

"Venomous…did all the work!" the drooling creature groaned and creaked, "Venomous should…eat first!"

Skullgrin shoved Venomous away; "I am…stronger than…Venomous!" he shot back, "Strongest…goes first!"

Venomous leapt at Skullgrin, and the two of them fell to the ground and grappled for rights to the spoils of the battle. The skirmish took them down a separate corridor that lead them away from their meal. Meanwhile, a strange wave of soft electric power surged through the mound of metal carcasses which Blade Stryke had been discarded. The surge was just enough to waken the femme from Stasis Lock. Once the disorientation passed, fear took its place in the Autobot's thoughts. Her joints were completely frozen from Venomous' acid, except for her right arm. She could not scream for help because her vocal processor had taken damage as well, though she would not have wanted to call out knowing the monsters would hear. _I have to get out of here,_ she thought with resolve. Suddenly, a faint whispering from the back of the cave caught her attention. It sounded like many voices calling out at once at several different octaves, and they knew her name!

"Blade Stryke…BLADE STRYKE…blade stryke…" the voices called out, "Come…COME to us…come to us…us…"

Blade Stryke wanted to call back, to ask who was there, but without a voice of her own, she had no choice but to listen. The electric surge pulsed softly through the empty bodies below her, giving her a sense of comfort, like this entity that was calling to her sought to help her. She rolled over onto her chest plate and looked as best she could with only one functioning optic in the direction she heard the voices calling from. She could see nothing but a brighter source of the current of power that was flowing to her, and in her curiosity, she found the will to pull herself towards it with her free arm.

"Speak to us…TO US…speak…Blade…to us," the voices requested as the femme inched closer.

Blade Stryke could only shake her head, tapping out Morse code with her hand, not even sure if the voices could understand it. She told them about her damaged processor, and the voices let out a heavy sigh then they giggled with the laughs of children as if they knew some big secret of the universe and were testing the femme to see if she could guess what it was.

"Speak…Blade Stryke…to…US, SPEAK," they said again, "We hear…WE CAN HEAR…we hear your thoughts."

Blade Stryke was unsure of what to think when they said that. She continued to drag herself to the source until she reached the very back of the cavern. There, she beheld a sight unlike anything she had ever seen before. In fact, it was so marvelous to her that the only thing that would top this event would be if she had been able to look upon it with _both_ of her eyes. It was a blue-grey cube of marble and granite with strange engravings upon all six sides. Small, recurrent streams of the soft electric lights crawled across the surface of the mesmerizing box. So taken by this treasure Blade Stryke was that the questions popped into her thoughts without much effort. It was like she had _always_ known of this cube and that it could hear her thoughts.

_What are you?_ she asked, _How do you know my designation?_

"We know…WE KNOW…we know a great many things," the cube answered, "a great many…MANY THINGS…we know…many things. All things…ALL…all things. Nothing comes…NOTHING…nothing comes to pass…comes…nothing comes…to pass without our knowledge…OUR KNOWLEDGE…without our knowledge."

_But what are you?_ the femme asked again.

"We are…WE ARE…WE ARE…we are," all the voices shouted at once, resonating like the sound of a waterfall, "Life."

_I don't understand._

"We are…WE ARE LIFE…Life," the voices repeated then elaborated, "We…WE ARE…we are the right hand…the…RIGHT HAND…the right hand of Primus…of Primus…OF PRIMUS. Lost…LOST…lost we are…we are lost. Help us, Blade Stryke…BLADE STRYKE, HELP…help us…"

_Help you? Help you what? What are you asking me to do?_

"Only…ONLY ONE CAN…only one…only one can return us…return us…to PRIMUS…can return us to Primus. A CHOSEN AUTOBOT…chosen. We must find him…find him…must find…"

_Who is he?_

"We cannot…cannot…CANNOT REVEAL THAT NOW…reveal that now. He is not…not ready…he is not ready."

_Then what was the purpose of telling me anything?_

"Because you are…YOU ARE…you are strong, Blade Stryke…you are strong. You shall be…SHALL BE…you shall be our vessel…OUR VESSEL…our protection…protection…from the evil that seeks us…TO DESTROY…to destroy…to destroy all that we have created…and to replace it…replace it…with a new regime…new regime…new regime of darkness."

_But this is a season of peace. Who would want to change that?_

"Don't you know…you know…DON'T YOU KNOW?" the voices asked with rather accusingly then they all fell silent as only a single voice answered the question anyway. "Quintessons…Decepticons…Staaaaaarscreeeeaaaaam!"

Blade Stryke backed away as quickly as she could from the Cube but ended up against a wall. Technically, she was too young to know much of anything about the constant wars between the Transformer factions of Autobots and Decepticons other than what she had heard in tales, and she had never heard of the Quintessons. "Starscream," however, was a designation she never thought she would hear again. It was a name she had locked away in the deepest pockets of her memory core along with the darkest secrets of her earlier days, secrets she never told anyone—not even her Velocitronian friends—since her clan abandoned her on the Speed Planet. Even Siren, the one who took her in as a clan sister, was not entrusted with these dark memories. Blade Stryke shook the name from her mind.

_You've got the wrong bot!_ she insisted, _I'm just a racer who wants to return home! Besides, the Decepticons disbanded…you have nothing to worry about!_

"DO NOT TAKE US FOR A FOOL!" the Cube bellowed, "WE KNOW…we know…we know your past!"

Instantly, the Cube began projecting images into the femme's cerebral core, memories of a life she thought she had buried upon joining the citizens of Velocitron. Blade Stryke hated the Cube for doing this, but as quickly as they came, the visions disappeared. When she had control once more, Blade Stryke tried to move away again, but the voices of the Cube became calm and soothing once more, attracting Blade Stryke back to it, albeit with more caution on the femme's part.

"Do not fear…DO NOT…do not fear," it said, "WE WILL NOT…will not harm you. We only want…only want…WE ONLY WANT…want you to understand. To do this…do this…to do this you must…YOU MUST…you must face your past. The longer you hide…the longer…THE LONGER…the longer you hide…the weaker…weaker…THE WEAKER…the weaker you become."

_I—I can't_ Blade Stryke hesitated, _If I so much as look at that demon in me…it will consume me…I'll become just like them._

"We…WE WILL NOT…we will not…will not let that happen. LET US…let us guide you…face your past…face your past…YOUR PAST. FREE YOURSELF…free yourself…free yourself…free yourself."

Blade Stryke still tried to resist at first. She tried to think about the past nine stellar cycles living on Velocitron and racing with Siren, Freeride, and Hotstreak, but she could not. She would _have_ to face her demons. The devastation of her past compelled her to reach up with her good hand to a portion of undamaged armor on her shoulder where Blade Stryke began to scratch away at some two or three layers of the black paint. Slowly, as the black fell away in thin flakes, the deep purple pigment began to show through, and the dull image started to take an all too familiar shape. Even when she had spent three solar cycles covering it up, somehow the young femme knew she had never truly been rid of the wretched insignia that identified her as a new generation Decepticon…

* * *

_The spectators in the arena shouted expectantly at the two robots fighting in the ring. One was a protoform Sparkling while the other was a battle drone programmed to train soldiers in combat. The protoform struck the drone down, bare handed and with ease, and in a moment's time, the entry gates were opened. The protoform was instantly surrounded by a squadron of battle drones, each wielding various Energon weapons ranging from short swords, to chained Morning Stars, to blaster cannons all aimed at their single opponent. The protoform to one glance around her, and as the drones closed in, she ducked to one knee and thrust her arms out to opposing sides. The power in this motion caused a mechanism reaction within the protoform's arms and released her twin Energon swords from their built-in sheaths, skewering the two closest drones to her. A short pause of shock overtook the entire stadium as no one expected this surprise from the protoform, and once the astonishment passed, the protoform made short work of the last of the drones with movements so fast it was impossible to see without a slow-motion replay._

_As the cheers flooded the arena once more, the protoform rose slowly, silently pulling the blades back into her arms and diligently looking around at the many other bots that had witnessed her victory. There was only one bot she recognized, however. He was a large, black and red mech with the alternate mode of an Earth-based Lockheed-Martin helicopter, and he was making his way to the protoform. He was known to the Cybertronian Underground as Razr, so aptly designated for the razor-thin bladed weapons he was most infamous for using in the now outlawed Combat Arena, and it was with his own Spark that he alone created the femininely crafted protoform that stood at his side._

_"Good work, Blade Stryke," he praised her, "I would expect nothing less from one of my Sparklings."_

_As the two of them stepped out of the ring to make room for the next competitors, Blade Stryke appeared less enthusiastic about her triumph._

_"Why do I have to keep doing this, Father?" she asked wearily, "Night after night Abyss and I fight in the Combat Arena tournaments. Night after wearisome night, we obliterate all of our foes. We've proven our strength. Isn't that enough?"_

_"What are you talking about?" Razr questioned in confusion, "You enjoy battle! It's what you were created for!"_

_"I _know_ that, but what's the purpose? There is no point in these endless battles against mindless drones—or anyone else, for that matter."_

_"My child, you are still young, and probably won't understand, but one day, we Decepticons will rise from the ashes once again. When that time comes, all soldiers must be ready to strike fast and hard at those foolish Autobots whose idea of peace would have us all locked away in the Iacon prisons!"_

_Blade Stryke shook her head; "You are right about one thing, Father," she sighed heavily, "I don't understand."_

* * *

Blade Stryke shuddered slightly at that bleak memory. Her creator was not someone she ever wanted to think about. He had been one of the very few Decepticons who lacked confidence in Megatron's leadership, and rather he saw greater potential in Megatron's traitorous first lieutenant Starscream.

"When both Starscream and Megatron were seemingly destroyed during the Battle of the Omega Lock," Blade Stryke opened up to the Cube, "Razr had rallied Decepticon remnants to the Cybertronian underground in a last-ditch effort to maintain their way of life. A few stellar cycles later, he created me and my brother, Abyss, claiming to have seen a vision of Starscream commanding him to train the soldiers in preparation for his return. No one believed him, so he entered us in Combat Arena tournaments instead. The matches had always been against battle drones. Destroying them left no impact on me or my brother. Then, Razr started bringing in sentient bots…civilians that could think and feel for themselves. It didn't matter who they were—willing Decepticons or captured Autobots—nor did I know, but they all had the same fear in their optics as my blades hovered over them…"

* * *

_The familiar ovation of anxious watchers flooded the Combat Arena like never before as the battle neared its end. Blade Stryke had weakened her opponent and now held him at bay with her twin blades in an X formation at the fallen bot's neck joint. The cheers became louder as the entire audience rose to their feet, but amidst all the random shouting, only one voice stood out above the rest, resonating in Blade Stryke's receptors._

_"Yes!" Razr called out, "Good, good, Blade Stryke! Now…destroy him!"_

_For a brief moment, all sound was silenced as Blade Stryke looked up where Razr was overseeing the tournament; "What?" Blade Stryke asked in confusion, "Why? He's fallen…this battle is over!"_

_"Do as I say, Blade Stryke! I am your father!" Razr shouted angrily, "I created you! Obey me, or suffer the consequences!"_

_The spectators roared louder now, chanting: "Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!"_

_"Give them what they want, child," Razr encouraged now, less menacing._

_Blade Stryke looked back down at the bot who was at her mercy; "Primus, forgive me," she whispered to herself but loud enough for the victim to hear._

_Without a second thought, Blade Stryke pulled her swords across each other like a pair of scissors, instantly decapitating the poor robot. The femme protoform had to fight against her desire to fall to her knees in guilt for this action as Razr came to her like he always did. All of a sudden, a strange hologram appeared across the wall, grasping the startled attention of all the Decepticons in the arena._

_"All hail Starscream!" Razr shouted, falling to one knee before the image._

_It took the other bots in the arena a few nano cycles to realize it was the real thing, and they, too, bowed the knee…well, most did. Others murmured that Starscream was not the true leader; only Megatron could lead the Decepticons to victory. They were incinerated simply by Starscream glancing at them. That was enough to convince the other spectators. Then Starscream looked down at Razr._

_"What do you have to show me?" he asked in that high-pitched, throaty voice._

_Razr rose to his feet and took Blade Stryke by the shoulder, pushing her in front of him for Starscream to see; "This young Sparkling," he said, "has shown the greatest potential. See her progress."_

_He pointed to a screen that was showing replays of Blade Stryke's many battles. Starscream appeared impressed._

_"What's your name, femme?" he asked._

_Blade Stryke looked back at Razr who nodded his approval to her; "Blade Stryke," she answered, and then as an afterthought she added, "sir."_

_Without saying another word, Starscream emitted a beam of light from his optics at Blade Stryke's left shoulder plate. It startled her at first, but Razr held her still as the Decepticon insignia was burned into her unformed armor._

_"Extraordinary for a femme," he said, "She'll make an excellent Decepticon."_

_That was a bitter thought in Blade Stryke's mind, but she kept her opinion to herself._

_"Thank you, sir," Razr responded._

_"What else do you have?"_

_"Abyss!" Razr called out, "This is my son. Equally as powerful as his sister, Abyss is more subtle in his battles than Blade Stryke is."_

_"Let me see."_

_Razr showed Starscream clips of Abyss' battles, which never crossed with Blade Stryke's, and again, Starscream seemed astonished. He sent that same light beam at Abyss' chest plate._

_"Welcome to the fold, Sparklings," he said, "I hope to see great things from you."_

* * *

That was the beginning of the demons in Blade Stryke's memory core.

"The real problem," she whispered, "was even though I felt guilt for it, I actually enjoyed the act. _That_ was sickening."

"Continue…CONTINUE…continue…continue…continue."

"Starscream was so intrigued by what he saw in Abyss and me," Blade Stryke went on, "that apparently he wanted to test us against each other. Neither of us knew what was expected of us at this point, but we knew better than to question Razr when he gave an order. He opened up a tournament much differently from the others before it. This time, Abyss and I were in the same competition, fighting our way to the final battle, but neither of us knew we'd end up fighting each other…"

* * *

_Blade Stryke and Abyss each made it to the final battle, assuming they would be fighting another unknown bot, but they were both taken by surprise to see their clan sibling looking them in the optics._

_"Abyss?" Blade Stryke spoke first, "What's going on here?"_

_"I don't know," Abyss shrugged complacently, "Looks like our father wants to see what we do against each other."_

_Starscream's image appeared before the arena audience again; "Only the strongest can truly be members of the Decepticons. You two have matured together…grown to 'care' for one another, but there is no room for compassion. Keep that in mind."_

_"I wonder what he means by that," Abyss whispered._

I already know,_ Blade Stryke thought to herself but did not voice her opinion. Without warning, Razr called for the battle to begin. Abyss was not prepared for Blade Stryke to come at him almost immediately. She knew better than to stall when Razr was watching as intently as he was. It did not take long for Abyss to come back, countering all of his sister's attacks but never landing a blow like Blade Stryke could. This was nothing new. Abyss was known to pretend to be taken by surprise, and this was no different. However, Blade Stryke was no fool like the drones and unfortunate bots they had both fought individually. Her brother was also slower than her. She knew what to watch for should Abyss make his move, and when he finally did, she was ready. As Abyss came around with his broad sword, Blade Stryke ducked down and caught Abyss in the midsection with her forearm, flipping him over on his back. She stood back up and caught her brother in the cross of her blades at his neck, just like the poor robot whose life she took a couple of days before. In his optics, Blade Stryke saw the same fear, and she knew that he now understood what their creator expected of them._

_"Very good, Blade Stryke," Razr said, "Now, show our leader that you are a true Decepticon! Kill him!"_

_Blade Stryke never took her eyes off Abyss. She was terrified of defying Razr's command, but she was not willing to take another life. This was her brother. Even if he turned on her for the approval of their father, she could not see her extinguishing his Spark. She pulled her weapons back and stood up to her full height._

_"No," she said defiantly._

_"What?" Razr growled, "What did you say?"_

_"No! I won't do it!"_

_"Blade Stryke!" Razr shouted now, "How dare you defy me now?"_

_"Hold on, Razr," Starscream jumped in, "Blade Stryke, what is it that has made you decide this?"_

_"Does it matter?"_

_"No, I suppose it doesn't. If you won't obey, perhaps your brother will. Abyss! Show me your strength!"_

_Blade Stryke did not have a chance to defend herself when Abyss attacked from behind, tackling his sister to the hard arena floor. He swung his broad sword down to crush her helm, but even though he surprised her, he was still too slow. Blade Stryke caught the sword with her own and flipped Abyss off of her. She got to her feet as fast as she could with the intent to flee from the presence of the Decepticons, but Razr blocked her path and grabbed her by her helm, forcing her back towards the hologram of Starscream. Abyss rose as well and was about to go after Blade Stryke again, but Razr held up his hand to stop the boy._

_"I should crush you now!" Razr bellowed, tightening his grip ever so slightly, "You're defiance has caused this pain upon you. However, my hand is stayed because the same Spark that flickers in you also burns in me. I have no choice but to cast you from my sight!" As he spoke, Razr carried Blade Stryke atop a high platform that was lowering just a little in the center of the arena; "Should any Decepticons cross paths with you again, so shall your life be ended." A portal opened up at the center of the platform; "Wherever the Space Bridge takes you, may you never find peace again!"_

_He flung his own Sparkling into the portal with all his force, and she was never seen on Cybertron since…_

* * *

"I arrived on Velocitron," Blade Stryke said, "Wounded and weary, I traversed the wasteland until I came across a quaint little shop. It was empty at the time, but it had everything I needed. I found a sand blaster, black auto paint and a spray gun, and for three solar cycles I tried to cover this abomination on my armor, but it would never go away. When I grew exhausted of that, I spent the last hours of the last day deleting all of my combat skills and experience. I would never take another life again.

"Siren found me later, in Stasis Lock from an Energon deficiency. When I came to, she and Clocker had already repaired me and chosen an alternate mode for me. I then realized at that moment, I had deleted all of my information just short of my name, but the memories never left. I hid them well, though."

The Cube lit up brightly now; "Good…GOOD…good, Blade Stryke," it said then all the voices spoke as one, "The next step of your journey will be to face your brother."

"But I—"

"It must be done…if you want to be…free."

"And the Chosen One?"

"He will be revealed in due time. When that day comes, you will soon understand why facing your demons was the most beneficial thing you could have done. Now, come. We must leave this place."

Even as the Cube spoke, Blade Stryke could hear the mutant monsters making their way back towards their meal.

"Where are we going?" she asked quickly.

"Wherever…WHEREVER…wherever the Matrix takes us. Place your hand…place…place your hand upon us, child…let us be gone!"

Blade Stryke did as she was told just as Venomous rounded the bend. He saw Blade Stryke up and about, and thinking she was escaping, he leapt for her. However, the Cube was true to its word. The minute Blade Stryke's hand touched it, she was surrounded by the same soft electric field, and in a flash, she disappeared! Venomous crashed into the wall, knocking himself out for the remainder of the night.


	8. Chapter 7: Defectors and Dreamers

**Chapter Seven:  
Defectors and Dreamers**

The convoy lead by Hot Shot arrived swiftly at the main repair garage at the center of Velocitron's only real city. Hot Shot transformed to his robot mode and began to clear a path through a group of civilian bots who had heard rumors of an "accident" in the restricted region of _Seta Alpha Five._

"Stand aside, everyone!" Hot Shot ordered the crowd, "Clear a path! Towline! Get them inside and into Cryo Regeneration Chambers quickly!"

Towline pushed through the multitude best he could without hurting anyone, entering the medical garage with Hot Shot close on the bumper. Blurr remained outside, closing the doors and standing in front of them like a nightclub bouncer to keep the curious populace at bay.

"Move along, people!" Blurr commanded, "This isn't a variety show! Show some respect, and go about your own business!"

When the throng finally dissipated, Blurr looked out to see Freeride coming up at last over the horizon in her vehicle mode. She came to a stop just a couple of feet in front of Blurr, but she did not transform.

"Anything follow, Freeride?" the mech asked.

"No," the femme answered flatly.

Blurr nodded; "Good lookin' out," he complimented as he opened the medical doors for Freeride to go in, "Hot Shot's waiting for you inside."

Freeride gave no acknowledgement as she drove through and headed straight for Hot Shot upon which point she finally transformed to robot mode. Her posture was cold and silent as she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest plate, waiting for her father to speak.

"How're the roads, Freeride?" Hot Shot asked after a moment. His voice was calm as he turned to face his Sparkling.

"Clear," Freeride answered at a low but hearable octave, "Whatever was out there obviously has no desire to roam too far from the ravine. I did a quick scout just to make sure."

"Good work," Hot Shot nodded, "and once we complete our search for Blade Stryke, I'll have Blurr activate the restriction barrier he's been working on. That'll ensure there won't be a repeat of this incident as well as keeping the creatures bound there." He then put his hand on Freeride's shoulder much to the femme's surprise, "You've done me proud, Freeride. You put aside your own well-being to help your brother and friends. I won't soon forget that."

Those words caused Freeride to look up into her father's optics. _I made him proud?_ she echoed in her mind. For a brief instant, the femme wondered if her decision to defect was what she really wanted as Lockdown's offer suddenly sounded ridiculous. However, the moment passed quickly as a different thought took up residence in Freeride's mind. _No,_ she thought bitterly, _he doesn't care what I do. His concern is only for Hotstreak, and he said that merely to ease the pain of the possibility of losing him._ Of that she fully convinced herself, but she managed a small, shy smile, pretending to believe Hot Shot's words.

"Thanks," she whispered faintly.

Hot Shot nodded once at her then proceeded to fill her in on the current situations; "Siren's going to make a full recovery," he reported, "Her Stasis Lock was nothing more than a defensive reflex from the shock of being hit so hard. She was out of the CR in less than five cycles and has since been moved to resting quarters to recharge."

"What about my brother?" Freeride asked with false concern.

"It's…" Hot Shot hesitated, "…it's too early to tell, kid. He's in Deep Stasis, and the CR probably won't do much good other than keep him online for a little longer. Kyle has opted to build Hotstreak a new body, saying his old one can't be repaired quick enough to sustain his life Spark. They tried to rescan a new vehicle mode for him, but since he's missing too many parts, that was impossible. Even salvaging what bits and pieces of his arm and leg wasn't enough for the program to repair him properly. Kyle and Max have been working on the new body for the last ten cycles, and it may take two or three solar cycles to complete. Monica and Zak have come to help as well."

Freeride nodded; "I'm going to check on Siren, then," she said.

"Sure, sure, Freeride. Um, Blurr's setting up a search team to go look for Blade Stryke, if you and Siren wish to help out."

"I'll run it by her."

Freeride said no more as she turned away from Hot Shot and headed for the chamber that Siren had been transferred to after her time in CR. The smaller femme was awake and sitting up on the lift she had been lain on with a power cord attached from a generator to Siren's chest plate above her Spark chamber.

"Hey," Freeride addressed from the entrance, "how're you feeling?"

Siren never turned to face her friend; "I'm not in the mood for a pep-talk, Freeride," she said stiffly, "Go away, and leave me alone."

Freeride did no such thing as she walked in and sat next to Siren; "Still mad at 'Streak, huh?" she asked.

"How'd you guess?" Siren snapped sarcastically, "Thanks to that sarian, Blade's probably been terminated by those freaks in the ravine! I will _never_ forgive him for that! I don't care if he's your stupid brother!"

"I wasn't going to ask you to. Actually, I thought it'd be fair to tell you that Hotstreak probably won't be reprimanded for his actions today…that his blatant disregard for his and Blade's safety has been pretty much overlooked by my father."

"What?! Why? How can Hot Shot just brush this off his shoulder?"

"He thinks the little beating he got out there was enough punishment, and—"

"No! I won't let him get away with this! He's caused me to lose the closest thing I had to a sister, and I won't rest until I see him suffer for it—even if I have to rip his Spark out myself!"

"Whoa, easy, Siren!" Freeride hushed the small femme, "Now's not the time for that, but your chance will come sooner than you think."

Siren gave Freeride a strange look; "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Freeride then explained her encounter with the Decepticon Lockdown and his offer of resources to find Blade Stryke and to really show their "friends" what they were made of. Siren clung to every word, becoming more interested by the nano cycle.

"Should Hotstreak actually survive his encounter with the monsters of the wasteland," Freeride concluded, "he'll have his servos full when we take him down for all the wrongs he's done. What do you think?"

"I'm in!" Siren declared without hesitation.

"Good. Blurr's leading a search team out to _Seta Alpha Five_ in just a few cycles. We can use that as a cover for our leave. Let's go."

Siren disconnected herself from the recharge center and followed Freeride out of the medical garage to rendezvous with Blurr and his already massive team of search and rescue volunteers.

"Wait for us!" Freeride called out, "Siren and I are coming, too."

"Good to have you with us," Blurr acknowledged, "it'll make the search easier. All right, team! Transform, and roll out!"

All the bots in the team went to vehicle mode and took off towards _Seta Alpha Five_. Freeride and Siren stayed close to the back of the group, waiting and contemplated their chance to break away and head for their new lives as Decepticons…

* * *

_~Three Days Later~_

The next couple of days were harder than anyone could have imagined. Today was supposed to be the start of the Velocitron Grand Prix, but with four of the top five contenders out of commission—Hotstreak: mortally damaged, Blade Stryke: missing in action, and Freeride and Siren were officially absent without leave—Hot Shot could not allow the race to even take place. He had only just heard that Freeride and Siren had taken off somewhere, but he figured they just needed to blow off some steam. Even though they had not checked in for almost half a solar cycle, he never felt a dire need to seek them out. They just lost a friend. Why accuse them otherwise? As for Hotstreak, a part of Hot Shot felt like it was his own spark on the line as he watched Kyle Hansen and his family try to repair the damages to his son. Well, in a way, it kind of was…after all, Hotstreak's spark was literally half of Hot Shot's. He heard the whispers amongst them. They said such things as the body was irreparable and spoke of a possible spark transfer. When Hot Shot finally asked about Hotstreak's progress, Monica Hansen, Kyle's wife, told him that a transfer was indeed necessary. Hot Shot informed the humans that there were not exactly spare bodies laying around the planet as such a thing is created when a spark comes online. I left no room for the suggestion of using a "dead" body as its ability to hold a spark after being dormant just for so many weeks would be non-existent. The notion of a transfer was beyond Hot Shot's reasoning, since it was unheard of for a Spark to just switch bodies. Needless to say, Hot Shot was surprised beyond capacity when Kyle and Max explained to that they had been working closely with Towline to _build_ a new body for Hotstreak. With the collaboration of Earthly and Cybertronian technologies, this motley crew of mechanics actually managed to build a compatible form to relocate Hotstreak's spark. There were risks, of course, one being that since this was an artificial transfusion and not a protoform choosing its alternate mode, there was a slim chance that the transfer would not take. They assured Hot Shot, however, that it was no immediate danger; it helped that Kyle and his family had studied Transformer anatomy nearly all their lives. That was mostly thanks to the close involvement Kyle's parents Coby and Lori Hansen and his Uncle Bud had with the Transformers during their time on Earth and in space searching for the Cyber Planet Keys. Hot was overjoyed that they found such a way to save Hotstreak, but he would have been a fool to think it was a good idea to celebrate so early in the procedure. So he did not. If that was not stress enough, he had also received word from Jetfire on Cybertron that he was on his way to Velocitron via Space Bridge with Crosswise and Scavenger to get Hot Shot and go after their endangered explorers. Bad timing. Hot Shot still needed a stand-in to lead Velocitron while he was away. This knowledge kept him out of the medical garage while the others tried to revive his son, but he tried to periodically. It was a three solar cycle procedure, and on this last day, he was not prepared for what was about to happen.

The prototype that had been built as Hotstreak's new body was poised in the center of the garage, a tall, deep red robot with golden orange flames scrawled upon the armor. It was an impressive sculpture of many different metal alloys, but basically without any obvious features. Towline said Hotstreak's Spark would shape and form the face and other features as his personality would see fit, just like a protoform would at its creation. Hot Shot stood off away from those working on Hotstreak's new body, looking at his oldest Sparkling in the Cryogen unit.

"I can only hope to Primus," he whispered to himself, "that Hotstreak pulls through."

Max, who had been up on the prototype's shoulder unit heard the mech speak, but she made no response. She sighed in understanding then went about her work. Before long, her own voice echoed through the room.

"Okay," she said, "I'm almost finished connecting all the wires and tightening all the bolts and greasing all the gears up here. Where's everyone else standing?"

"Joints in the knees, feet, and hips are done," Kyle reported confidently, "and Towline's just finished coating the Spark chamber; it's ready to install."

"Hotstreak's still stable," said the brunette woman—Monica Hansen—at the computer consol, "but I keep getting odd blips from his core consciousness. It could be nothing more than the equivalent to a human in the state of REM, but I know for sure that if we don't get his spark into the new body soon, it will extinguish within the hour."

"I'm not hopeful of his chances," Towline sighed, "In all my life cycle, I've seen bots terminate from wounds less devastating than this."

"We worked to hard to start doubting now," Monica reminded him, "Clocker?"

"Well," Clocker responded, "with a few more tweaks, Zak and I will have the transformation cog in place in just a few cycles."

"Zak and _I_?" a young male voice echoed with annoyance from somewhere within the prototype's structure, "All you're doing is holding the spotlight, Clocker! _I'm_ the one doing all the work!"

"We all have our own parts to play," Clocker answered smugly, "My part happens to be holding the light. If that's not good enough, I'll take my light elsewhere."

With a teasing chuckle, Clocker turned the bright light he was carrying off, and almost instantly everyone could hear the sound of metal crashing and the unmistakable thud of a heavy tool hitting the top of a human head.

"Ow!!" Zak cried out, "Son of a—!"

Clocker started laughing with amusement; "See?" he said, "I'm working just as much as you are, Z—hey! Ouch!"

A wrench came flying out from wherever Zak was lodged and nailed Clocker right between the optics! The young man popped his head out of his crevice to get a better view of his target.

"Paybacks suck, don't they!" the human called out, laughing in his own twisted pleasure.

The room was completely filled with laughter now, as Zak and Clocker exchanged many more words before someone finally stopped them.

"As entertaining as all this is," Monica said, "we've still got a lot of work to do. If you two would be so kind as to put the games and squabbles to bed, we can avoid destroying Hotstreak's new body before there's a chance for him to use it, okay? No need to waste our time now."

"But—!" Zak and Clocker protested at the same time.

"I said put it to bed!" Monica pushed back harder, showing she meant business.

"Yes, ma'am," the two agreed quickly.

Clocker turned the light back on, and Zak crawled back into the prototype and resumed working.

Monica Hansen was the forty-two-year-old wife of Kyle and mother of three children: Max and Zak—the twins—and Danny—the youngest, who was still on Earth with his grandparents. Monica had long, stringy brown-red hair that reached to the center of her back and hazel eyes. She was lean with a height of right under six feet and no trace of wrinkles or graying hair. Like her husband Kyle, Monica was a computer and robotics genius, but unlike him, she had not spent her entire life around the Transformers. Originally, Monica had gone to school to learn how to design and build animatronics for movie props and theme parks, and it was not until after her marriage—when Kyle took her to Autobot City on Earth—that she even knew the existence of this race of robots. Since then, she dedicated herself to studying Transformer anatomy and structure with the hope of learning new ways to help humanity with the technology.

Zackary "Zak" Hansen was Max's fraternal twin brother, younger by about five minutes. He had short, spiked brown hair and hazel eyes, looking more like his mother where Max looked more like their father. He was exactly six feet tall with an athletic build. He never cared much for computers, but thanks to his grandfather Coby, Zak was able to hone his mechanical skills beyond what he could have learned in any school. This as one might guess gave him quite the advantage in the courses he _did_ take. The bickering between him and Clocker was common as each one of them thought himself wittier than the other, and it was always a competition to out-wit each other—a competition that never gets finished before Monica has something to say to end it.

After another ten minutes, Zak climbed out of the prototype completely. He was covered from head to toe in grease and oil from being wedged between gears and wires just to place the transformation cog perfectly in its place. There was a loose wire hanging to the side of Zak, which he grabbed a hold of and rappelled down and off the prototype.

"Cog's in place," he said, snatching a towel off the table to clean his face off, "Let's give this thing a whirl."

"Okay," Kyle agreed, "Max, come on down so I can get this going. With any luck, we got all the creases right the first time, and it'll bend, split, and rotate properly when we transform it."

Max tweaked one last wire before she took her own cable off the prototype. Towline then pressed a button on his computer consol which caused the wires that kept the prototype in place to pop off allowing free movement.

"Keep your fingers crossed," Kyle said as his finger hovered over a red switch on a little remote control he carried, "three…two…one…transform!"

Everyone held their breath as the prototype complied with the commanded transformation. It was slower than a true transformation so that the human mechanics could detect any defects in the model they built. Indeed, they had the fortune of not finding a single mistake as the prototype went from robot to vehicle mode. It was sleek and sporty with a cobalt blue finish.

"Wow!" Clocker exclaimed in awe, "What is _that_?"

At this point, Hot Shot walked over to the finished project, smiling for the first time in a long time; "_That_, Clocker," he said proudly, "is a high-running sports car known to the humans as a Subaru WRX, an older model, but no less coveted by collectors if I'm not mistaken."

"Don't look at me," Kyle said with a playful sneer, "Max and her brothers picked this form. I would have picked something with a little more armor."

"Dad!" Max chuckled, "You wanted to turn him into a 1960's hippie van!"

"Yeah, well," Kyle defended folding his arms over his chest childishly, "it had Hendrix on it."

"Hendrix was like a hundred years before our time," Zak spoke up, "and the van would have looked lame amongst the racers on Velocitron. The Subaru suited his structure much better, anyway."

"I'm going to have to agree with the kids," Hot Shot said.

Kyle shook his head and waved them all off; "No one respects the classics anymore," he said with faked grief then turned to his wife, "Okay, Monica. We can try the transfer now."

He controlled the prototype once more and put it back into robot mode for the transfer. Towline reconnected the stabilizing cords as well as a tube-like valve which he attached from the prototype's chest cavity to Hotstreak's Spark chamber. He nodded to Monica, giving her the "go ahead" for the first transfer attempt. The human woman then flipped a few switches on her control panel then hovered over a medium sized green button.

"Initializing Spark Transfer…now!" she declared as she pressed the button, "It's a go!"

For a moment, everyone was excited and proud of their accomplishment. However, just five minutes into the procedure, the alarms went off! A red strobe drowned out all other light in the garage and dangerous electrical feedback flowed through the wires between the CR chamber and the prototype.

"What's going on?" Hot Shot demanded, "What's wrong?"

"I—I don't know!" Monica stammered as she struggled to shut the alarms off, "The neurological anomalies are erupting everywhere in his core consciousness…it's—it's like he's fighting against us…like he doesn't _want_ to be saved!"

"Impossible!" Hot Shot protested as he began banging on the CR chamber, "Come on, Hotstreak! Pull through, son!"

"Hot Shot!" Monica shouted in alarm, "He's not responding! You're not helping by acting this way!"

Hearing the commotion, Blurr ran into the medical garage to see Hot Shot pounding away at the regeneration chamber with Monica shouting at him to stop. Without hesitation, Blurr took his commander under the arm joints and pulled him away and out of the garage.

"Keep him out of here!" Monica ordered, "He'll do more damage than anything in his current state, and I can't have him interfering with this process! I have to terminate the transfer now, or else Hotstreak will go offline. We won't get another chance to save him after that!"

Without waiting for responses or permission, Monica slammed her palm on the cancellation button, effectively silencing all the alarms and stopping the flow of electricity in the wires. Everyone but Monica felt slightly guilt ridden about the failed transfer. The brunette simply brushed the situation off her shoulder and went back to work.

"Okay, everyone," she said with a calm sigh, "Let's try again. Reconnect the wires and reset the CR chamber to compensate for the last attempt."

"I don't know," Kyle said, much to everyone's surprise, "He fought against us. Whatever happened out there in the waste has got him not wanting to come back. We've exhausted all our ideas and our skills have hit their limits."

"No," Monica shook her head, "He's still online, which is our first advantage."

"What's the second?" Zak asked.

"The anomalies. They were ecstatic and rampaging during the transfer but settled when it was canceled."

"And that means what, exactly?" Max inquired.

"I don't know for certain, but my theory of REM can be ruled out. _This_ activity is similar to a human coming out of a coma. Sometimes, comatose people are fighting against death in their dreams, so when they are coming out, they can feel threatened as life anddeath _both_ fight for them…basically what I'm saying is that maybe—just maybe—if we slow the process a little, we might have a more successful transfer the second time around. Also, if we talk to him, it may distract his core from all things happening out here."

"Not that I'm doubting the plan, Monica," Towline said, "but what if this doesn't work either?"

"Then we'll move on to the next idea…and we'll keep going until we can no longer remember what we've tried."

"Maybe we're just dreaming too big," Kyle said in sorrowful doubt.

"If it weren't for big dreamers," Monica countered, "we wouldn't be where we are now. Nothing's impossible, you know. So…you gonna help or what?"

Kyle finally smiled again; "Whatcha want me to do, boss?" he asked.

Monica returned his smile; "Help Towline reattach the wires," she said, "Everyone else, take shifts and speak to Hotstreak. Let him know we want him back."

With renewed spirits, everyone went about their new assigned duties.


	9. Chapter 8: Guiding Dreams an Resolutions

**Chapter Eight:  
Guiding Dreams and Resolutions**

There was a vast, barren wasteland stretching as far as the eye could see, blanketed in a thick shroud of fog and stagnant mist. This mist was dark and hazy, rising and falling as though it was being kicked up by an aimless and wayward traveler, but there was no wind. As his optics flickered wildly to life and his systems tried to come online, the young Autobot Hotstreak found himself on a bare patch of ground where the haze did not touch it. At a complete loss, the mech tried to sit up, only to find that he was missing his left arm and half of his right leg. He strangely could not recollect how this could have happened to him, but even more bizarre still, he did not seem surprised by it, either. In fact, through all his disorientation, the only thing that really bothered Hotstreak was his lack of memories and the fact that he was completely and undeniably alone.

"Wha—where am I?" he asked into the void, his voice echoing all around him as though he were in a tunnel, "How did I get here?"

He was only answered with silence. Without even giving a second attempt, Hotstreak lay back down on the cold, hard floor, trying to recall any memories that might give him some clue as to where he was. As he tried, a strange collection of voices suddenly reverberated around him. He shot up quickly and glanced around him defensively.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"Hotstreak…" the voices called out softly, "_Hotstreak…_"

"Who's there?!" Hotstreak asked again.

"Wake up, Hotstreak…_no, sleep, Hotstreak_…live…_die_…fight…_surrender!_"

The voices repeated this over and over, and Hotstreak kept asking for answers that were not being given. The voices were making his head spin. Aggravated, Hotstreak began to shout.

"Shut up!" he cried trying to cover his receptors, forgetting he was missing an arm, "Quit taunting me, and tell me what's going on!"

The voices finally ceased, and again there was silence. However, Hotstreak did see something now that he was sure was not there before. A few feet in front of him, there was a large, rectangular holo-projection hovering a couple of inches off the ground where the mist dissipated. It began showing an old memory of Hotstreak's back when he was first created. It felt odd to see this. Why was he seeing his memory in front of him rather than within his mind? He decided to roll with it rather than question it further, fearing he may lose his chance to remember what brought him to this desolate place. He blinked once, and the image changed to his first participation in the Velocitron Tri-Annual Grand Prix—he had lost to Blurr. That made him laugh a little, because now he could remember how over-confident he had been when he was training for the race. Blurr never challenged Hotstreak's early claims to victory, but he sure did put the young mech in his place in the end! Hotstreak blinked again. Now he was seeing himself nine stellar cycles ago, when he, his sister Freeride, and their friend Siren first met Blade Stryke. Sudden realization hit him as he watched this memory.

"Blade Stryke!" he exclaimed softly, "That's what happened. We…we were attacked…that's right…"

Even though he finally remembered what happened, the scene on the holo-projector did not change. It continued to play out through Blade Stryke's gaining Velocitronian citizenship, her first battle of wits with Hotstreak—which she easily won—and her first Grand Prix—which she _lost_ to Hotstreak, who himself lost to Blurr…again. The memory did not quit playing until the moment Hotstreak and Blade Stryke left for _Seta Alpha Five_. It did not play into their encounter with the monsters of the ravine, sparing Hotstreak the misery of witnessing his failure again.

"These are good memories," said a voice from his right, "don't you think?"

"I know that voice," Hotstreak said at a below-audible octave.

"C'mon, 'Streak," the voice pressed, "get off your skid plate! Help is on the way!"

"I know _that_, too," the mech grimaced as he turned to face the owner of the voice.

Sitting on a low-risen rock—which Hotstreak also noted was not there a moment ago—was a black and silver femme. She had no signs of battle damage or anything; she was just the way Hotstreak remembered before the gruesome ambush. Blade Stryke was cross-legged upon the black boulder holding what looked like a remote control.

"Blade!" Hotstreak shrieked gleefully.

"You were expecting Primus, maybe?" Blade Stryke asked teasingly.

"You're alive!" the mech cheered ignoring the femme's taunt, but then he revised his thinking, "Or maybe…I'm…offline?"

Blade Stryke laughed; "You're online, Hotstreak," she said, "You're just in Stasis Lock in Towline's garage. Towline, Clocker, and Kyle's family have been trying to repair you for three solar cycles now. Welcome to your Core Consciousness."

Hotstreak, still shocked by this encounter, glanced around at his bleak surroundings; "It's not what I pictured it to be," Hotstreak mused.

"You have the power to change that, you know," Blade Stryke said, "It's your mind, after all, and it reacts to how you're feeling right now. You feel depressed, so this is what you get." When Hotstreak gave no response, Blade Stryke continued; "Listen, Hotstreak," she said, "you need to wake up, now."

"What for?" Hotstreak spoke with remorse, "After everything that happened, it just seems so much easier to die."

The already dreary setting became even darker when he said this. Subtle flashes of lightning streaked across the otherwise black-as-sackcloth sky.

"Don't talk like that, bro," Blade Stryke said, her very voice pushing back the encroaching storm, "C'mon…get up! Everyone's waiting for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Hotstreak scoffed, "Why? To tell me how irresponsible I was? To lecture me on how a conscientious leader should act? Or maybe just to punish me for my foolishness?"

The tempest returned now but much more fiercely. Thunder rumbled throughout the void, and violet-blue lightning struck the ground randomly around the small patch of ground where Hotstreak was sitting. The mech did not even flinch.

"You're beginning to sound like Freeride," Blade Stryke observed, her voice sounding faint, "This is the kind of selfish behavior I'd expect from her, but even she wouldn't give up the battle this easily."

Noticing the sudden change in the femme's vocal octave, Hotstreak looked over at her. She was fading into the darkness of his core consciousness, and the mech was completely bewildered by it.

"Blade?" he asked, "What's happening to you?"

"Death," came the hollow answer, "is slowly winning this struggle for your Spark. You've got to fight back. I know you don't really believe that your friends and loved ones would turn their backs on you on a whim, and if you listen carefully, you'll hear them talking out there…hear them pleading with you to come out of this…"

As Hotstreak pondered Blade Stryke's words, the "storm" eased off reluctantly, and Blade Stryke's image became solid once more. The mech listened hard, and through his core consciousness, he could actually hear their voices…

_"Almost ready to try again,"_ Clocker was heard, accompanied by the faint sound of wires and cords thudding against each other.

_"Good,"_ that was Monica Hansen, _"Let's set it up again, and remember to keep an eye out for Hot Shot. I swear, if he comes in here one more time before we're finished, I'll have him shot with an EMP ray!"_

_"Pull through, Hotstreak,"_ Max was whispering, _"I owe ya one for saving me out there."_

_"You know, guys,"_ Kyle spoke up, _"there's still a little time if ya'll want to change your minds about the kid's vehicle mode."_

_"No, Dad!"_ Max and her twin brother Zak shouted, _"No one hundred fifty-year-old hippie vans!"_

Hotstreak could not keep from laughing; "A hippie van?" he echoed, "Was he for real? Ha! Kyle's really showing his age now! You know what, Blade Stryke, I think you're right; maybe it is time to suck it up and wake up."

As his frame of mind lightened, the ominous storm faded away completely, and the scenery went from dark and abysmal to bright and wonderful. Blade Stryke appeared relieved as she approached Hotstreak, stopping just a few feet in front of him.

"Good," she encouraged, "now I have something to show you." Blade Stryke held out her right hand, and out of nowhere, a cube of unknown composition materialized in her palm. It was surging with a soft electric current throughout the many mesmerizing grooves along its surface; "You need to find this Cube, Hotstreak," she commissioned, though her voice no longer sounded like her own.

"What is it?" Hotstreak asked, noticing the difference but was more curious about the Cube now, "What does it do?"

"This is the All Spark," the answer came like a wave of a thousand voices now, "the source of life for all Transformers, formed to aid Primus in the creation of our kind. Equally, it can also grant death if held in the wrong hands. You've got to find it before the Decepticons do."

The Cube vanished from Blade Stryke's hand as she began walking backwards, disappearing into the wind.

"Wait!" Hotstreak called out, "Where are you going? Is that all I get? Where do I even start looking? Blade! Come back!"

"Start," Blade Stryke's ethereal voice echoed everywhere, "by waking up, Hotstreak…"

Hotstreak continued to call after Blade Stryke until her voice no longer resonated on the wind, and all fell to silence once more. Hotstreak fell back to the ground and closed his optics. He sighed confidently, thinking on the femme's words. Although he was not sure where to start his new mission, he _did_ know it was not going to get done any quicker as long as he was trapped in his damaged body.

"The All Spark, huh?" he pondered, "Whatever it is, it must be pretty important if the Decepticons have reformed just to get their dirty servos on it. Well, I guess it's time to wake up."

With that, Hotstreak's form fragmented and turned into a small, glowing orb, as this was really his Spark that created a physical form for his "dream." Now with renewed purpose, the Spark prepared itself to enter into a new body…

* * *

Back in Towline's medical garage, Monica and Clocker had finally reconnected all the wires between Hotstreak and the new prototype and were preparing to run the second Spark transfer attempt. Blurr was standing at the entrance of the garage to keep Hot Shot from coming in too early and causing stress. Max stood in front of Hotstreak's C R chamber, hoping that her words of encouragement were getting through. Kyle was doing last-minute paint touch-ups on the prototype, Zak was tightening the screws, nuts, and bolts to make the transformation run smoother when Hotstreak finally "moves in," and Towline was monitoring Hotstreak's stability.

"Okay," Monica said in exhaustion, "everything seems to be in order now. I think we can try it now."

"What about the neuro anomalies?" Towline asked.

Monica skimmed over her monitor; "They've cleared away," she answered with a smile, "He appears to be willing to come back now. Max, honey, you and your brother get to your monitors."

Max tapped on the glass of the CR chamber; "Don't let me down," she whispered as she followed Zak to two monitors that were sitting adjacent to each other.

Monica reentered the transfer sequence into the computer, and the machines whirred and ground in response, indicating that the transfer was going much smoother than the first attempt. Twenty minutes of tense waiting passed without any signs of change or danger when Monica stood up abruptly, startling everyone in the room.

"What is it, Mom?" Zak asked worriedly, "Is he fighting again?"

"N—no," Monica whispered at first then began to laugh, "Unbelievable! We did it! We did it! The transfer took! We did it! Look everyone! Hotstreak's going to survive!"

Everyone in the medical unit cheered loudly at the news. Kyle embraced his wife as she wept and laughed at the same time, and Max began draining the C. R. chamber. Towline began bypassing Hotstreak's stasis lock system in order to wake him up. Hotstreak's optics flickered on as all his systems booted up. He looked around to see who all was in the room with him, and he took a step forward, but due to his not being used to the new body, stumbled forward. He managed to catch himself from face-planting onto the floor. Towline helped the younger mech regain his balance, holding him up until Hotstreak could think a little clearer.

"Take it easy, kid;" the medic said gruffly, "you've been in Stasis Lock for three days, so your telemetry may be a bit off. Take some time to recalibrate your systems."

"Where's…" Hotstreak tried to speak, but his voice was weak, "where's Blade Stryke? Is she okay?"

Clocker took that one; "Hotstreak," he spoke hesitantly, "Hot Shot sent a team out to _Seta Alpha Five_ three solar cycles ago, but they found no trace of Blade Stryke out there. They searched every mile of the valley until the sun set, but nothing came of it."

"No…no trace?" the words did not sound right to Hotstreak, "but I…I just saw her…didn't I?"

"Well," Monica offered, "it was probably just your core consciousness creating an image of someone close to you in order to bring you out of stasis lock safely. You didn't actually see her, Hotstreak…sorry."

"But I could have sworn…" Hotstreak trailed off, "No way! I can't accept that! Out of my way, guys! I'll go look myself!"

"Whoa!" Clocker called out stepping in front of Hotstreak and pushing him back gently, "Now's really not a good time to try to go out there, Hotstreak! There's no telling if those monsters are still out there waiting for you!"

"Monsters?" Hotstreak echoed, obviously still not remembering much of the experience around the ravine. He placed his hand on his helm in confusion. He quickly pulled that hand back in realization, "What the—? What's all this?"

"You're body was damaged beyond repair," Towline explained, "Totaled. Kyle and his family—with some technological help from Clocker and me—built you a new one."

"Was it…really that bad?" Hotstreak pondered, looking at his new hands as a few broken memories flashed in his mind, "The fight…I can just barely remember now. One minute, I was racing some stranger and the next, Blade and I were ambushed by what I can only describe as mutant Transformers. We fought them off best we could, but they proved too much for us to handle. Just one alone couldn't be dropped with the two of us together. Then Blade Stryke…she…she was…"

"Taken," Max completed, "They know. You told me, so I told them already. It wasn't your fault, Hotstreak. Blade knew what the risks were when she agreed to go."

Hotstreak was not feeling guilty for what happened, but he was not going to ignore that fact he was indeed responsible for it; "No, Max," he corrected, "she didn't. Even _I_ didn't. Freeride knew, but I was too eager to get out there that I didn't give her a chance to tell us about it. I should go look for Freeride and apologize. Where is she anyway? I thought for sure she'd be the first one to greet me…you know, like making fun of me for getting the scrap beat out of me?" He then became aggravated at the silence and the fleeting glances he was receiving from everyone, "What now? Please don't give me more bad news, guys. I don't think my processor can handle it right now."

Kyle folded his arms across his chest and sighed; "Well, I wouldn't call it 'bad' news, kid," he said as he paced the floor with his head down, "but it's certainly not all that good either…we haven't seen Freeride—or Siren for that matter—in three days…er, solar cycles, or whatever you bots call 'em."

"They're _both _missing?" Hotstreak almost shouted, "And…everyone's okay with this?"

"It's not that," Max defended, "it's just they were pretty irked about Blade Stryke getting captured. We assumed they went as part of the search team…except the team returned yesterday morning. Blurr said that Freeride and Siren did in fact leave with them, and last they saw, the femmes were also traveling back. However, one of the rear scouts reported both of them breaking from the group heading south."

"We figured," Kyle added, "they weren't satisfied with the search and so began one of their own."

"Well," Hotstreak sighed, "maybe they're within com range."

"They're not," Towline shook his head, "Your old man's had the communications center trying to contact them the past two nights. They finally called in once around 1800 yesterday, but no communications since then. Hot Shot put the com center to rest, declaring that the girls needed time to clear their processors."

"I guess so…" Hotstreak was not really convinced.

Before he could voice his opinion, Hot Shot suddenly burst into the medical garage with Blurr hot on his tail.

"Sorry, Monica!" Blurr shouted, "I couldn't keep him away any longer."

"That's okay, Blurr," Monica assured, "he can come in now if he wants to."

Hot Shot did not even wait for Monica to finish her sentence before he plowed through the garage and headed straight for his Sparkling, practically tackling him to the ground.

"Hotstreak!" Hot Shot shouted quite overjoyed.

"Yikes!" Hotstreak yelped, taken off-guard as he tried to maintain his balance.

"Hey!" Zak protested when Hot Shot backed off, "We just finished painting that armor!" He quickly searched for scuffs and scratches then sighed in relief, "It's good…we're okay. Hey, Hot Shot, take it easy, huh? This stuff don't come cheap."

"Sorry, guys," Hot Shot apologized, "I just got a little excited that's all."

By this time, Hotstreak realized the size change in his new form as he noticed that his father Hot Shot was now at optic-level with him. He analyzed himself against his father for a moment before he commented on it.

"Geez, Dad," he said, "I remember you being taller!"

Hotstreak fell over in shock; "Slag, son!" he laughed, "That's an odd way to greet your old man…and rather tactless."

"Heh…yeah. Sorry."

Hotstreak grinned sheepishly and offered his hand to help Hot Shot up. Hot Shot accepts the aide, laughing heartedly.

"It's all right," he assured, "After all, I'm just as surprised to see this new form as you are. It suits you, and it will be like getting a second chance. So, let's try to show a little more responsibility, all right, son?"

"I will, sir." Hotstreak promised then he thought to himself: _I wonder if Dad knows about this "All Spark" from my dream;_ "Dad," he began, "can I ask—?"

"Excuse me, Hot Shot," Towline interrupted, "we just received a transmission from Jetfire on Cybertron. He and the other leaders are on their way here now to get you for the rescue mission. They should be arriving within the next few mega cycles."

"Already?" Hot Shot asked in surprise, "But after everything that has happened, I haven't been able to name a successor…ah, Slag. All units report to the Space Bridge and prepare for the arrival of Supreme Commander Jetfire!" then he turned back to Hotstreak; "I'm sorry, son," he apologized, "you had a question. Walk and talk with me."

Hotstreak thought for a moment then held his index finger up matter-of-factly; "Actually," he said, "come to think of it, this may be something I need to ask all the Planet Leaders, if that's okay."

Hot Shot nodded in understanding and departed from Hotstreak who then transformed to vehicle mode for Max and Zak to ride up to the Space Bridge. _No time like the present,_ Hotstreak thought in resolve as he sped off to meet and greet the leaders of the other Cyber Planets.


	10. Chapter 9: Reunion of the Planet Leaders

**Chapter Nine:  
Reunion of the Planet Leaders**

The entire population of Velocitron was summoned and gathered at the Space Bridge in anticipation of welcoming the Planet Leaders from the other Cyber Planets. Hot Shot and Blurr stood atop the base platform of the Space Bridge just a few feet above head-level of the crowd. At ground level, Hotstreak was at the front of the multitude of bots gathered with Max and Zak upon his shoulders. Kyle and Monica had arrived with Clocker who was standing right next to Hotstreak. They all looked up at the others on the platform. There was a five minute time lapse before the Space Bridge opened up, spreading in a circular pattern like a flower blossoming in the spring.

"This is one experience that never gets old," Zak commented in awe, "It's like looking into a new prism kaleidoscope every single time."

"Yup," Clocker agreed with a nod, "There's nothing else quite like it in the entire universe."

"Citizens of Velocitron!" Blurr called everyone to attention, "Salute!"

The whole crowed moved as one, bringing their feet together with a loud clack of their heels and raising their right hands up at an angle above their optic ridges in soldiers' salutes. Within seconds, the first of the visitors stepped through the portal. This was Crosswise, an Autobot who had journeyed to Earth on the very first Space Bridge Expedition millions of years ago. He, along with his close friend Evac, traveled on board the legendary ship _Atlantis_, which sparked the original myths of "The Lost City" on Earth. At the time, Crosswise self-appointed himself to the hunting and entrapping of the ancient and mischievous Decepticons that were prowling around on Earth terrifying the native Earthlings by disguising themselves as mythical monsters from human lore. This earned Crosswise the title of "Monster Hunter," and he lived up to it quite well. Then, seventy stellar cycles ago, the "monsters" were set free by the scheming Decepticon Starscream, causing Crosswise to join the Autobots in their quest for the Omega Lock. When that mission ended, Crosswise became the leader of the Autobot Transformers stationed on Earth. He managed to pull veteran soldier Jazz out of retirement as well, appointing him second-in-command of the Earth forces and automatically Commander in Crosswise's absence. The Monster Hunter's alternate mode was that of a grey, Earth-based Bugatti Veyron sports car, and his weapons of choice were his long-range blaster rifle, hand grenades, and landmines.

The second out of the Space Bridge was Scavenger, the current leader of Gigantion, home of the giant Transformers. Most of the inhabitants of the Giant Planet used construction vehicle alternate modes, and Scavenger was no different. He transformed into a bright green bulldozer, and also like the other Giants, he had a Minicon companion. His was called Rollbar, and he transformed into a miniature crane. Scavenger was once a mercenary drifter back before the Unicron Battles and was not a true native to Gigantion. He had served as a mentor to Optimus Prime back when the Autobot and Decepticon wars first started and took part in the first defeat of the monster planet, Unicron. Afterwards, he returned to a life of drifting, stating that the war had made him grow weary of battle with a desire to find a place to settle down. That was when he came across Gigantion, a planet lost to the knowledge of the Transformers until the Omega Lock was rediscovered. Between those two times, Scavenger's form became adapted to that of the other Giants, and he grew to phenomenal proportions. He studied the histories of the planet and learned of the attack by Planet X, and so he was greatly prepared when bots from that devastated world attacked once more. This proved his ability to Metroplex, the Giant Leader at that time, and he was appointed the new leader at the end of Battle of the Omega Lock ended and the beginning of the Space Bridge expedition.

Lastly, Jetfire, the leader of Cybertron and Supreme Commander of all Autobots stepped out from the Space Bridge. This Autobot served many stellar cycles in the Cybertronian forces under his predecessor and friend Optimus Prime. He participated in so many battles in his life cycle that to list them all here would be quite overwhelming, but suffice to say that he was a key player in the ultimate fall of the monster-planet Transformer Unicron and in that of Decepticon leader Megatron. His alternate form was an An-225 Cossack Transport jet craft with wing-mounted missile launchers and a secret projectile launcher that could be activated with his Cyber Planet Key. He was most surprised with his appointment by Prime, as he felt he was not worthy of such an honor, but he accepted it with dignity.

Jetfire looked out at all the Velocitronian Autobots gathered at the Space Bridge; "At ease!" he said with a heave Australian accent, "It's great to see so many old faces and refreshing to see new ones. However, it is regrettable that this isn't a leisurely visit. Carry on." As the gathered bots began to disperse and go about their own business, Jetfire turned to Hot Shot; "Good to see you, old mate," he greeted with a handshake.

"Likewise, Jetfire," Hot Shot agreed then turned to Crosswise, "Always a pleasure, Crosswise." Lastly, he turned to Scavenger; "It's been too long, Scavenger!" he said as he reached his hand out for Scavenger's. Then he quickly pulled it back from the size of the giant servo; "Um…well," he chuckled sheepishly, "it's good to see you again. I don't mean to offend you, old friend, but I've forgotten how much you've reformatted since you moved to Gigantion."

Scavenger laughed a deep, gruff chuckle; "No harm done, Hot Shot," he assured, "I'm still trying to get used to this myself…and you remember Rollbar, my partner Minicon, right?"

"Of course! How can I forget? How have you been, Rollbar?"

Rollbar beeped happily in the language of the Minicons and moved his arms up and down in joy at Hot Shot's recognition of him.

""That's always good to hear," Hot Shot encouraged the Minicon then returned his attention to the Planet Leaders, "This visit is earlier than expected. We've had a bit of tragedy which has set me back on finding Velocitron a new leader. Come on. We'll talk more in the control center."

As Hot Shot lead the way to Velocitron's Control Center, he began telling Jetfire and the others about what had transpired just three solar cycles ago. He told them about Hotstreak's venture out into _Seta Alpha Five_ and that Blade Stryke had followed to watch his back. Even though his knowledge of all that took place that day was rather limited, he knew just enough to explain the situation of his planet.

"Hotstreak had been damaged beyond the repair of the CR," the mech elucidated, "so Towline, Clocker, and Kyle Hansen's family built a new body and transferred his spark into it. Then we learned that Blade Stryke had been captured by the mutated bots of the ravine, which sent Freeride and Siren off on their own mission to find her. We haven't heard from them since."

"That's too bad," Jetfire mused, "I've heard very promising things about those femmes. Anyone of them had the potential to lead the planet had these events not taken place. You still have two other choices though, right?"

"Yes," Hot Shot acknowledged.

"What about Blurr?"

"I've thought about him."

"…and?"

"I don't know, Jetfire. I straight up offered him the position before the Grand Prix was announced, but you know how he is. He doesn't like things to just be handed to him…he wants to earn them."

"After all this time," Crosswise spoke up in that unmistakable Brooklyn accent, "he doesn't think he's earned the right to lead?"

Hot Shot shrugged; "That's what it seems," he said, "But I also know—"

A crashing sound at the entrance of the command center was heard, interrupting Hot Shot's thought and catching the planet leaders' attentions. They turned to see Max fighting against her parents' and brother's hands as they shove her into the room. Finally, Clocker's hand was seen giving the final successful shove.

"Go on!" Clocker whispered from out of sight, "Tell them!"

"Why do I have to do it?" Max shot back.

"Because it was _your_ idea!" Zak reminded her.

"This is not going to work…" she spoke under her breath, "My ideas almost never work!"

"Something to say, Max?" Hot Shot asked suddenly.

Max grumbled in annoyance as she trudged over to the Planet Leaders who addressed her. She appeared rather elegant at first, but in the last couple of steps, nervousness took over, and she nearly tripped on the wide hems and long straps that dangled from her jeans.

"I, uh," she stammered, "I was going to wait 'til you guys were finished talking, but um, well…"

"Spit it out, girl!" Scavenger rumbled softly.

"Hot Shot," Max cleared her throat and spoke more smoothly, "I've bee talking with the others, and, given the events that occurred out in the valley, we think that Hotstreak is indeed ready to take the responsibility of leading Velocitron while you're away."

Jetfire raised an optic ridge at the young woman then turned to Hot Shot; "Hotstreak has seniority after Blurr, right?" he asked, "Surely he's good leadership material. Where is that boy, anyway?"

"Back on the track," Max answered with a little more confidence, "He's trying to get used to his new form. So…Hot Shot, what do you think."

Hot Shot rubbed his chin in reluctance; "He's capable, that's for sure," he acknowledged then sighed, "but Freeride was right when she had said Hotstreak's actions were irresponsible. His recklessness may have cost his friend her life, and I can't ignore that. The people need to be able to trust their leader, not fear him or her."

"But, Hot Shot!" Max protested, "Regardless of what bad happened out there, there was also some good. In the midst of it all, Hotstreak realized his mistake and took the initiative to fix it. Even Freeride admitted that she ignored Hotstreak when he told her to wait for you before going after those creatures with Siren. And if that's not going to convince you then maybe we should consider what was lost on Hotstreak's behalf…even you said he'd been punished enough."

"Look, Max," Hot Shot came back, "I understand how you feel about this, but I have to do what's best for the planet. Hotstreak has proven he has learned a lesson, but he has also provided evidence that he is not ready to take up the mantle of leader, not yet. This isn't about punishment. This is about trust, and at present—as much as I don't want to say or believe it—my trust in him is fractured. That hurts to say more than anything right now."

"I'm afraid Hot Shot's right, li'l sheela," Jetfire said after much consideration, "I just reviewed the incident report, and I have to say, regardless of what he did in the end, it was the initial choice he made that shows his level of responsibility. The boy is clearly not ready to lead an entire planet."

Max nodded sadly but in understanding as she walked back to where her family and Clocker were waiting. She mumbled something along the lines of "I told ou it wouldn't work" just before she vanished from eye sight of the Planet Leaders.

"So then," Jetfire resumed the conversation, "I take it you already made your choice of stand in?"

"Yes," Hot Shot answered, "I'll talk to Blurr before the solar cycle ends. For now, we need to discus a plan to try and rescue our friends and family involved in the expedition."

"Yeah," Crosswise agreed, "but you see we've encountered a problem. We have absolutely no contact with the Jungle Planet, and we can't exactly embark on a rescue mission without the Leader of the Beasts, ya know? Well, we could, but it wouldn't be easy with three bots looking for four ships."

"Yeah, well, Scourge wasn't one to use communicators, we all knew that. We'll just have to go to Jungle Planet and—"

"That would be the problem, mate," Jetfire cut him off, shaking his head, "We tried to land on the planet before coming to get you, but we were nearly shot out of the sky! There were no familiar Spark signatures either. Scourge, Snarl, and Leobreaker are all missing, and there seemed to have been a miserable war going on down on the surface. Everything seems to have reverted back to a feral state as Scourge had once described the place before he took over."

"We didn't stay long enough to make contact either," Scavenger added, "The current inhabitants of the planet are no longer friendly to outsiders, and they do not recognize the Cyber Planet Pact made seventy-five stellar cycles ago."

"We can't sit back and do nothing," Hot Shot observed.

"We won't," Jetfire assured, "but that's why it's very important for you to appoint your replacement as soon as possible. I want to send a team of your current best warriors—including your choice of leader—to Jungle Planet while the four of us go forward with our rescue mission."

"You're joking, right?" Hot Shot asked in disbelief, "Velocitron doesn't have any 'warriors.' We're racers, you know that. Blurr, Clocker, and I are the only ones experienced in battle, if that's what you want, and…and…and Hotstreak has had some training. However, none of them could possibly be prepared for something on the grand scale of Jungle Planet."

"_No _warriors?" Crosswise echoed, "Didn't you think it'd be wise to at least have a small militia just in case?"

Hot Shot threw Crosswise a cold glance; "Don't tell me how to lead my people, Crosswise," he said, "Besides, it shouldn't be _that_ much of a surprise. Aside from my Sparklings, the youth of Velocitron have minimal combat training; it's mandatory, but it's only used for races. All other veterans went on the expedition."

Jetfire jumped between them; "Okay, okay!" he shouted, "Calm down, both of you. Look, Hot Shot, we're pressed for time. Every cycle we waste is a cycle we lose in the search for our friends. We must leave tomorrow morning."

"We'll figure something out," Hot Shot assured, "even if I have to put the burden on Blurr to plan the Jungle Planet mission."

"We'll see you in the morning, then."

The leaders then departed from each other, the guests heading for the visitor's chambers and Hot Shot to his own chamber. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Clocker and Max joined Hotstreak out on the test track. Max sat up in the monitoring booth to observe all action on the track. Hotstreak and Clocker had begun a race to test Hotstreak's speed in his new body. Neither Max nor Clocker spoke a word about the incident in the Control Center with the Planet Leaders, not wanting to upset their friend by what they had been told. Besides, Hotstreak had been enjoying himself too much for them to ruin that.

"Come on, Clocker!" Hotstreak shouted excitedly, "I've only had this body for a day and I'm already kicking your tailpipes with it! At least _act _like you're trying to beat me, man!"

"You think I'm _not_ trying?" Clocker shot back, "Hotstreak, I'm already at my top speed!"

"You're pulling my fender!" Hotstreak laughed in disbelief, "I'm not even venting fumes yet! You're conserving your engine for the final lap, aren't you? Sly devil!"

"He's telling the truth, Hotstreak," Max confirmed over Hotstreak's comlink with an obvious smile in her voice, "Clocker is moving as fast as his engines will allow even with Cyber Key Power."

"Then he should be passing me, right? I'm only going half my speed!"

"I'm sure that's how it feels after being a Chrysler for so long. Your mind still thinks your top is right at two hundred miles per hour, so that's what your top speed will always feel like. However, you're actually breaking three hundred right now."

Hotstreak nearly shouted in disbelief; "What?!" he shrieked, "No way!"

"Yeah," Max laughed, "You know, on Earth, that specific Subaru model is used mostly for racing rather than conventional travel, but even they can't reach three hundred miles per hour. It's all you, bro. This mode we gave you enhanced your already impressive speed, and I wouldn't be surprised if three hundred wasn't your maximum."

Hotstreak and Clocker skid to a shrieking halt after crossing the finish line after their third lap and transformed to robot mode as Max came down from the viewing booth. Hotstreak examined all his systems.

"Slaggin' unreal!" he exclaimed, "Three hundred miles an hour and I can possibly go faster? Too bad the test track isn't quite long or straight enough to experiment with that theory…I really could have used this speed out in the desert."

"Yeah…well," Clocker tried to avoid delving into that subject again, "you know, we could try it out on the main track, but we'll have to—"

"Great idea, Clocker!" Hotstreak agreed, smacking Clocker on the back, "The main track would be perfect to really tear it up. Of course we need to get special permission to utilize the track when it's not in use."

"I was trying to say that," Clocker grunted mildly offended, "I'd _never_ suggest we just go_ without_ permission, geez. If you'd have let me finish my sentence, you'd know that."

"Details, details," Hotstreak waved him off, "let's go find the guy in charge of all that."

He transformed to vehicle mode and allowed Max to climb in. Clocker also transformed, and they all headed for the main track, and after receiving permissions to run on it, there was no stopping them. At first, Clocker was matching Hotstreak's speed with little effort. Max, who opted to ride within Hotstreak during this run, relayed everything she could see.

"Okay, 'Streak," she said, you broke your normal two hundred, and Clocker's not getting enough of a workout."

"Hope you didn't expend too much energy on the test track, kid," Clocker teased.

"I'll show you!" Hotstreak laughed, "How's this for energy?"

Hotstreak accelerated rapidly, plastering Max to the seat. She noted the mech had reached the three hundred mark and was exceeding it! It was just like she predicted! She read off the numbers as the gauge needle past them.

"Three twenty-five!" she hollered, "Three fifty! Three seventy! Four…hund… red! 'Streak! Stop!"

Hotstreak initiated his brakes as fast as he could, causing himself to slide sideways just before to track ended. He opened his doors to let Max out and then transformed to robot mode.

"What a rush!" the mech shouted in exhilaration, "You okay, Max? I didn't know humans could change color like that."

"Trust me," Max said shakily, "it's not something we do because we like to…I think I'm going to be sick…"

The young woman hunched over and grabbed her knees, hanging her head down in an attempt to fight back the nausea that threatened to bring dinner back for an encore. After a few deep breaths, that threat passed, but Max was still feeling weak from the potential of it. Clocker pulled up just as Max sat herself on the blacktop, still keeping her head down and evening out her breathing.

"That was just insane!" Clocker commented, "You might even be faster than Blurr!"

"About the same," Max corrected softly, "The Maserati wasn't built for racing, but it can definitely keep pace with a Subaru, so don't get his hopes up."

"Who cares weather I'm faster than Blurr or not?" Hotstreak asked suddenly, "I'm more concerned about being faster than Skullgrin and Venomous down in the ravine!"

Clocker and Max shot confused looks at Hotstreak who was not even looking at them anymore. His gaze had shifted out in the direction of _Seta Alpha Five_, a fueled rage burning in his optics.

"Hotstreak," Clocker spoke cautiously, "I already told you the team Hot Shot sent out thoroughly searched the area for Blade Stryke. If you were to go out there again, there's no telling what Hot Shot will do."

"I hear you, Clocker, but just how 'thorough' were they? Did they just check out the surface, or did they go down in the ravine itself? That's where they took her, and that's where we should search."

"Listen to yourself! Before it was just ignorance, but now you pan to deliberately defy Hot Shot by reentering the restricted sector?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hotstreak was smiling now, "I don't plan to just go on a whim like last time. I'll have to appeal to my father's compassion, but I'm going to get cleared to venture out there this time. Besides, it's not just Blade Stryke now. Freeride and Siren are out there, too, and they've been missing long enough to send a search party for them."

That made sense to Max and Clocker, but they were still in doubt as to the effectiveness of the young mech's plan. They knew he would have to rely on more than just Hot Shot's compassion for the results he wanted, especially with the other Planet Leaders being more concerned with the situation on Jungle Planet. Then again, they also knew he was too stubborn to just let it go, even if it meant getting into more trouble.

"Well, 'Streak," Max said as she rose to her feet after finally regaining her balance, "if you plan to confront them confidently, I'd suggest you rest your engines well, otherwise you might stumble over your words—not very convincing, you know."

Hotstreak ran a diagnostic on his systems when Max said that, and sure enough he was running rather low on energy and needed a recharge.

"Huh," Hotstreak scoffed, "in my old body I could go several quadra-decacycles without a recharge. What's the deal?"

"Since this is still a _new_ body," Max pointed out, "you're going to have to take it a little slower than normal so that you can manage your energy output, otherwise you might drain yourself much too rapidly. It'll take a couple more days for your systems to calibrate properly, and your recharge cycles will return to normal."

"I can't wait that long," Hotstreak responded adamantly, "but a single solar cycle's worth of energy should suffice."

"Hotstreak," Clocker tried to reason with the younger mech once more, but he did not get the chance to finish his thought.

"No, Clocker," Hotstreak silenced him, "it's personal this time. Whether or _not_ I get the clearance I need, I _will_ go back out there, and I _will_ find my friends and sister or get scrapped trying. Nothing you or anyone else can say will change my mind about it."

He quickly transformed to vehicle mode and peeled off the track and headed back towards his personal quarters. Clocker shook his head, and Max shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess that's that," Max said nonchalantly.

"He's going to get himself in more trouble than necessary," Clocker responded in disappointment, "It's for reasons like that that Hot Shot feels he can't trust him."

Max did not respond. She kind of felt what Hotstreak was feeling, and she knew if roles were reversed, she would go against her parents to help someone she cared about. With that thought in her mind, she asked Clocker to take her back to the complex that was specially built for human visitors. She wanted to be fully alert when the Planet Leaders were ready to depart.


	11. Chapter 10: Missions, Commissions

**Chapter Ten:  
Missions, Commissions, and Something about an All Spark?**

The very next morning, Hot Shot and the other Planet Leaders met one last time in Velocitron's Control Center to discuss what needed to be done about Jungle Planet before embarking on their main rescue mission of the Space Bridge explorers. Blurr and Hotstreak were present at Jetfire's request, and a sentry drone was operating the main computer terminal, bringing up a satellite-view image of the always lush, green home of the Beast Transformers.

"Like I said yesterday," Jetfire was saying, "Jungle Planet has indeed reverted back to a feral state in the unusual and unsettling absence of their leader Scourge and his closest lieutenants Leobreaker and Snarl. Hot Shot, Scavenger, Crosswise, and I don't have the time to spare to go down there ourselves and conduct a full investigation, and since Velocitron is closer to Jungle Planet than the other Cyber Worlds, we'll be leaving the new Velocitronian leader in charge of arranging a team to go look into the situation with out Beast comrades."

"That would be why you two are here," Hot Shot added looking over at Blurr and Hotstreak, "I've spent quite a few megacycles considering who I will be leaving in charge, and given the unacceptable events that took place out in Seta Alpha Five, I've decided that you, Hotstreak, are not ready to lead the people responsibly. Therefore, Blurr will be in command in my stead."

At first, Hotstreak was a little hurt by his father's words, feeling slightly betrayed that Hot Shot did not talk to him about what happened and about how he felt before putting him on the spot like that. He understood Hot Shot was disappointed in him for riding in restricted areas and getting others in trouble, but it did not change the feeling of chagrin he felt. But then, unexpectedly, Hotstreak actually sighed in relief (though he kept it quiet enough that no one else noticed) as he realized that if his permissions asking fell through and he took off for the valley alone, his punishment would not be as harsh as it could be had he been placed as leader instead of Blurr. Almost masterfully, Hotstreak maintained his composure as Hot Shot continued with the deliberations.

"I also spoke with Towline," he was speaking directly to Blurr now, " and I've appointed him second-in-command. He'll remain On Velocitron should you have any reason to leave the planet."

"I suspect you've already given me one," Blurr observed nodding towards the computer screen, "What exactly do you want me to do there?"

"Just gather information," Jetfire answered, "and try to find out what happened to Scourge and the others. Now, none of the Spark signatures on the planet registered in any of our databanks, so be advised the inhabitants won't recognize anyone we see there. Take a small team to avoid hostilities."

"I don't have many choices on team members."

"Scout around," Hot Shot suggested, "There's bound to be a few able bots willing to aid you in your mission…oh, and take Hotstreak, too"

Hotstreak's optics flashed wildly when he heard he was to go to Jungle Planet as well. _No!_ he thought, _This blows my plan clean out of the energy pool!_

"Wait, what?" he asked trying desperately to hide is frustration, "I'm not even back on my feet for a solar cycle, and you want to send me off-planet? When did _I_ volunteer for this?"

"You are to remain under Blurr's supervision until further notice," Hot Shot responded strongly, "If he goes off-planet, you go with him. End of story. Besides, you'll get good combat experience that very well may come in handy in the not-to-distant future. It'll be good for your Spark and for getting use to your new form quicker."

"What about Blade—?"

"I understand you're still grieving for your friend, Hotstreak," Jetfire cut him off, "but as I've observed, a rescue team had already gone out, searched, and came back fruitless. If she _is_ still out there, she's beyond our aid."

"But Freeride and Siren are out there, too!"

"Then Blurr can send a team of his choosing to search for them."

"With all due _respect_, Jetfire," Hotstreak emphasized, "you don't know what those things are capable of. The one that actually carried Blade Stryke off had some kind of toxin it spat out that melted through Blade's armor, severing critical wiring and melding her joints, impairing her movements. Another one was so strong that if he hit you hard enough he could shatter your transformation cog and rip your limbs from their connections without even trying. Still a third seemed to be able to sustain life without a Spark. We can't send a team out there knowing what I know; I'm the only one here able to match them."

"Sort out your priorities, kid," Crosswise said, "You're willing to leave a planet-wide populace to its fate in favor of pursuing the uncertain survival of just three bots!"

Hotstreak's emotional circuits were sizzling now; "_Just_ three bots?" he echoed trying—and failing—to maintain a calm and collected tone, "They are _not_ just three random bots. They happen to be my sister and two best friends, and I would turn this planet inside-out just for them before I go risking my Spark for bots I don't even know!"

Blurr had to step in front of Hotstreak as the younger mech was inching too close for comfort towards Crosswise with his right servo in a tightly clenched and slightly shaking fist. Scavenger also was pulling Crosswise back, the smaller bot seeming somewhat eager to teach the Sparkling a lesson in respect. Jetfire and Hot Shot only looked on, neither one even bothering to give his input until Blurr and Scavenger got Crosswise and Hotstreak away from each other.

"That's quite enough from both of you," Jetfire said, "While you bicker amongst yourselves, our already slim chances of finding our friends move further and further from our reach."

_"That won't be your only delay,"_ Towline's voice floated to the Leaders via comlink, _"There seems to be a meteor shower right above Velocitron, making it impossible to open the Space Bridge today…or at least for the next twelve megacycles if I can get some help rerouting power."_

Hot Shot sighed heavily making note of the problem. He promised Towline that he and the other leaders would come down and help as soon as possible, so he moved to wrap up the small meeting.

"This debate is over," he said, "There will be no more teams sent out to _Seta Alpha Five_ for any reason because Freeride, Siren, and Blade Stryke have been missing beyond the statute of limitations for another search party, and with the new barrier installed around the sector, it's impossible to go back there again anyways. I'm sorry, Hotstreak, but we tried everything in our power to find Blade and the others; I don't want to lose anyone else…especially you, so please, just do as I say."

Hotstreak straightened up. He could tell that Hot Shot was serious, but he could also see that the mech really wanted to try again, even against his own judgment. Still, Hotstreak saw no leeway around his father's decree, so for his sake, he complied.

"Yes, sir," he said softly, turning away.

The Planet Leaders said nothing more as they filed out of the Control Center and headed towards the Space Bridge dock. Hotstreak waited until they had all left before he pushed the sentry drone aside and went to typing orders into the computer. He had forgotten Blurr was still standing there, and even if he had not, he would not have cared that he was not alone in the room. He was looking up all the recent data gathered on _Seta Alpha Five_, particularly the barrier that had been set up. Nothing was impossible to get by, especially if one had the access codes, and they would only be stored on the main computer of the planet.

"You won't find it that way," Blurr suddenly said from behind.

Hotstreak jumped a little, slightly startled to remember Blurr was there; "Wha-what are you talking about?" he feigned innocence poorly.

"The access codes to the SA5 Barrier."

"I-I'm not looking for…what? Codes?"

"C'mon," Blurr laughed lightly, "I've known you far too long to actually believe you're just going to back off your personal mission to find the girls just like that. Hot Shot didn't want the codes logged into the computer yet, thinking you might try something like this once you found out about the barrier…what do ya know? He was right."

Hotstreak gave in; "Okay, yeah…so what now, _Commander_?" he nearly snapped, "Are you going to report my actions for further reprimand?"

Blurr only shook his head, his smile fading away; "No," he answered sincerely, "I'll shut the barrier down myself after the Leaders leave."

Hotstreak was confused. He had never known Blurr of all bots to disobey a direct command from Hot Shot or any other superior officer. Needless to say, his curiosity was peeked.

"Why would you do that?" the younger mech asked rather concerned, "You're being trusted with the planet's safety…there's no need for both of us to lose my father's trust, Blurr."

"It was Crosswise's words," Blurr answered solemnly, "I don't know if it's all these years as a soldier are finally getting to him, but he's never allowed himself to choose between to important priorities, much less made anyone else do it. To make a long tale short, a good Leader will deal with his own planet before attending to someone else's. We'll take one last look around the valley, if that will give you some closure."

Hotstreak was lost for words. This things Blurr spoke should have come from the Planet Leaders' processors…or at least they should have understood that one has to defend his own home before all else, otherwise he is powerless to help anyone else. The young mech had to admit that even he would not have thought about that had he been chosen leader. He would have just gone out to the ravine impulsively and probably got hurt again—or worse.

"Thanks, Blurr," Hotstreak said, feeling a bit embarrassed for his behavior, "that's more than I would've been willing to ask from anyone."

"Well, looks like you got your permission after all!" said a voice from beside the control entrance.

Blurr and Hotstreak both fell over in surprise, and when they got back up, they saw that Max had snuck into the Control Center to eavesdrop on the meeting. She had a mischievous smile on her face, her arms and legs crossed, and she was leaning against the wall like a lone shark looming in a bar on earth.

"By the Matrix, Max!" Hotstreak shouted, "How long have you been in here?"

"Long enough," the young woman answered, "I want to come help look for Blade Stryke, too."

"No way, squirt. Every time I let you in on anything, you prove to be more trouble than my plans are worth."

"Come on, 'Streak! She was my friend, too! Besides, I've managed to map out the ravine using the communications satellite, and there are a lot of really small corridors that only a human or Scout Class bot could fit through comfortably. Face it, you _need_ me to come along."

Hotstreak hesitated while he tried to find a different excuse to leave the human behind, but he could find none. Even if he _did_, he knew it would not work. Max thought too much like him and would weasel her way into a convoy without much effort. Therefore, Hotstreak simply gave in.

"All right, fine," he said, "you're in, but please, don't tell anyone else. I want to keep this as low-key as possible."

Max nodded and smiled in her victory as she turned and exited the control center. Blurr gave Hotstreak a curious look, raising both optic ridges inquiringly.

"What?" Hotstreak asked perplexed.

"More trouble than it's worth, yet?" he asked tauntingly.

"Oh…well, what was I supposed to do? She's persistent for a human."

"You're such a pushover, Hotstreak."

Blurr laughed as he left the control center as well. Hotstreak furrowed his optic ridges in offense of the insinuation.

"No I'm not!" he called out. It was not a very well thought out come back, so Hotstreak impulsively repeated something he had heard Clocker say the night before, "Oh, yeah? I bet I'm faster than you in this new form!"

"If you want to test that and back up your words," Blurr called back, his voice sounding very far away, "I'll be out on the track. Bring it on, Sparkling!"

Hotstreak, feeling more confident with the outcome of the day, excitedly ran out of the control center, transforming to vehicle mode and burning rubber towards the race track.

* * *

It took exactly twelve hours to recalibrate the Space Bridge against the meteor shower that was still passing by Velocitron, and when it was all completed, the Leaders convened in Towline's medical garage for minor repairs to their systems. After a couple of minutes, Blurr and Hotstreak came stumbling in, venting fumes from all exhaust ports and laughing like children in a play yard. It was an odd sight to see; the Planet Leaders did not know exactly what to make of it. Towline ran diagnostics on their systems while they continued to enjoy the memory. They practically ignored everyone else in the room as they discussed what took place.

"I beat you yet again, kid," Blurr boasted, "but let me tell you what, you really gave me a run for my Energon Chips this time. I actually had to _try_. I can't remember the last time I truly had to concentrate to win a race, but you made me do it. Great job."

"There's always next time," Hotstreak responded, pounding his fist against Blurr's, "I'll get ya next time."

"Wish I had an Energon cube for every time I heard that one," Towline commented gruffly, "You both over exerted your engines. Where were you racing? In a clay bed?"

Blurr and Hotstreak only laughed again, but they did not respond. Hotstreak turned to the Planet Leaders at that moment, all evidence of the hostility he had shown earlier completely vanished from his persona.

"So," he said brightly, "how're repairs on the Space Bridge coming along?"

"It's finished," Jetfire answered without a moment's hesitation, "We need to let it calibrate on it's own for a little while, but we'll be evening within the next two megacycles."

Hotstreak nodded. He was about to ask another question when Jetfire spoke up again.

"I take it we're all prepared for our next missions?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Blurr took the initiative to answer this one, "my team's ready to depart for Jungle Planet in two solar cycles. That'll give Towline the time to reset the Space Bridge once the meteor shower has passed."

"All right then. All the preparations are made, and our first stop will be the last known location of the _Atlantis_. From there, we should be able to track the _Ogygia_, _Hyberborea_, and _Lemuria_ from the records in _Atlantis'_ memory bank."

Towline finished up the repairs on everyone the contacted the sentry that was stationed at the Space Bridge.

"The bridge is ready," Towline relayed to the others, "We should get you guys going soon as possible."

"Yes, let's," Jetfire agreed, rising to his feet.

Hotstreak then grabbed everyone's attention; "Wait, you guys," he said quickly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you before you go." When the Planet Leaders acknowledged him, he continued, "Have any of you ever heard of something called the 'All Spark'?"

Jetfire exchanged a surprised look with Hot Shot; "Where did you hear about that?" the Supreme Commander asked curiously.

"Blade Stryke…well, a vision of her, at any rate. While I was being reformatted, my core consciousness—I guess—conjured up this vision of Blade Stryke holding a strange marble cube surrounded in a soft electric field. She said I needed to find it before the Decepticons do."

Max, who had been at a diagnostic computer all morning, looked up in confusion; "My grandmother said the Decepticons disbanded," she said, "why would they be after this…this…what was it again?"

"The All Spark," Jet spoke in awe, as he activated his wrist module and conjured up a three dimensional floating image of a strange marble cube, "The legendary All-Spark was said to be the key to creating life through the power of Primus. To this day, however, there has been no proof to its existence, so it has been reduced to nothing more than mere fairy tale. Nevertheless, that didn't stop explorers and scientists from pursuing it."

"_Are_ we still searching for it?" Hotstreak asked.

"No," Hot Shot answered this time, "not in the sense of the word. A lot of scholars and scientists study items of importance that seem to "radiate" with the energy of the All-Spark. The Iacon Chamber at the heart of Cybertron is filled with unidentified energy. We know it's not Energon, so the scientists have limited their "search" to just observing the chambers of Transformer creation. There was never any proof that it was a physical object, other than by artistic renderings."

Jetfire nodded in agreement as he shut the hologram off; "Not to mention," he said, "there hasn't been a legitimate reason to resume a physical search."

"Is my vision reason enough?" Hotstreak asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Eh," Jetfire hesitated a little then proceeded cautiously, "I don't know about that…there's reason to investigate, but to order a full-out search may be a sign of our hopes being too high."

"But what about the Decepticons?" Max asked, slightly more adamant that Hotstreak was, "If they're after it, too, shouldn't we be trying to stop them?"

"The Decepticons disbanded, Max," Scavenger pointed out, "just like your grandmother said. Vision or no, there's no way they could reform without their leader Megatron, and Starscream was sent to another dimension."

"Yes, but Starscream wasn't _destroyed_. What if he found a way back?"

Hotstreak subtly leaned over to Blurr; "See what I mean?" he whispered, "Persistent little creature."

"She has a point, Jetfire," Crosswise said thoughtfully, "It's just like when those ancient Decepticon monsters escaped the captivity of Earth's mountains. Technically, their sparks were sealed in an alternate dimension, and they all came back…granted, they had help from Starscream, but most of the work was their own."

Jetfire thought for a moment then came to a decision; "All right. I'll put out an alert to all the stand-in leaders to be on the lookout for odd energy readings. Until someone actually finds something, I want the Velocitronians to remain focused on the mission on Jungle Planet. Don't just go gallivanting off on some wild goose chase."

"We got it, Jetfire, sir," Blurr responded, "let's get these missions underway shall we?"

Everyone in the medical unit transformed to vehicle mode and headed for the Space Bridge. Max rode with Hotstreak, assuring him over and over again that she did not tell anyone about the plans to resume searching for Blade Stryke, and by the time they reached their destination, Max had had enough of Hotstreak talking her ear off, so she pulled out her iPod to listen to her music and ignored pretty much all activity at the Space Bridge. The sun of Velocitron was already setting over the planet's horizon, so farewells had to be made quickly.

"If there's any last minute agendas," Jetfire said, "Take care of them now. We'll have five cycles before the bridge will be ready. Once we step onto the Space Bridge, communications will be severed after two mega cycles, and after that, there's no telling how long it will be before we are all reunited."

"I want to talk to my son," Hot Shot spoke up, and when Jetfire nodded in approval, Hot Shot approached Hotstreak, placing a hand on the younger bot's shoulder, "I don't know how long this will take, son, but you need to know that I'm glad to see maturity flowing into your CPU after the incident in the valley, and I'm very proud that you were able to see your mistake and learn from it. I hope that under Blurr you'll nurture those lessons and regain my trust properly."

"Don't worry, Hot Shot," Blurr intervened before Hotstreak could react, "I got this covered. You guys just concentrate on finding our comrades, and be sure to return safely."

"We'll do what we can," Jetfire responded, "but we make no promises. Farewell. Good luck in your mission."

Blurr, Hotstreak, Towline, and Max all saluted as the Planet leaders stepped into the Space Bridge and disappeared from sight. Blurr looked cautiously around then turned to Hotstreak.

"Okay," he said just above a whisper, "I've got a couple things to do before our real mission begins. Meet me at the main track in four megacycles."

Hotstreak nodded as he transformed. Max climbed into Hotstreak and the two of them took off while Blurr set the plan into motion.


	12. Chapter 11: Second Encounter

**Chapter Eleven:  
Second Encounter**

Blurr met up with Hotstreak and Max a tad later than planned at the end of the main road that once lead through the old obstacle course of _Seta Alpha Five_. Clocker was behind him, which confused Hotstreak a bit considering the mild conflict between them the night before. Neither mech addressed it right away.

"Sorry I'm late," Blurr apologized, remaining in vehicle mode for the mission, "but I had to relay the message about the All Spark to the Leaders-Apparent on Earth, Cybertron, and Gigantion so they can stay in the loop, as it were."

"They'll be keeping an eye out for it then?" Hotstreak asked rather hopeful.

"Sort of; they'll investigate any odd energy readings, but they're not to drop everything they're doing to chase ghosts. At any rate, if anyone detects anything out of the norm, they'll send a message us, which is really more than we should be hoping for as there's no real proof to the Cube's existence. But until we hear something, let's get to our own quest while the sun's still out. Max, is your map ready?"

"Yeah," Max answered rolling the window down from within Hotstreak's cab, "and I made digital topographic copies for you guys to download in your navigational systems. I've already traced out the safest path through the valley for us, taking only the strong roads and avoiding the areas still being affected by the toxin."

"Stellar, Max. All right, Autobots: roll out!"

The three racecars peeled out heading south towards _Seta Alpha Five_, hitting the unpaved roads in just under five minutes of the trek. Blurr let Hotstreak lead the way since he would be the only one to recognize the place he and Blade Stryke were attacked. So Hotstreak rode ahead of the line but only about halfway in front of Blurr. Clocker trailed behind around two car lengths from Blurr, and he had not spoken once since they had gathered. Hotstreak figured that Clocker was still feeling a little bit upset about the other night—he may have even been feeling uneasy about coming out with Hotstreak and Blurr after Hot Shot had specifically told them not to continue the search. Hotstreak decided to talk to him about it rather than draw his own conclusions.

"Max," he spoke through his inner audio so that no one other than Max could hear him, "open a private link to Clocker." Max did so without question, and Hotstreak addressed Clocker; "Are you okay?" he asked sincerely.

"Uh, yeah," Clocker answered reluctantly, "don't worry about me."

"You don't have to come out here with us if you don't feel right about it."

"It's not that, 'Streak, it's…well it's…Primus, I'm no good at this. Listen, I want to apologize for the other night. It's not mine or anyone else's place to tell you to just give up on your friends."

"It's cool, Clocker, you don't have t—"

"No, I do. I heard about Crosswise's outburst about priorities, and I realized that I was harboring the same thoughts when we spoke. Therefore, I apologize."

"I appreciate that; seriously though, we're cool, okay?"

"Yeah…thanks."

Clocker sped up a little, closing the gap between him and Blurr significantly, and within a few seconds, the conversation had been forgotten. The three Autobots and Max maintained their course out towards the SA5 Barrier mostly in silence in order to be able to listen for any possible trouble that could sneak up on them.

Aside from mapping out the terrain, Max had also been using the satellite tracking unit, scanning the area for tire patterns or footprints in the sand or traces of discharged Energon in the air, to locate Freeride and Siren. She was sure the two angry femmes would not have knowingly gotten themselves trapped behind the barrier after the last search, so she sought for any trail they might have left behind.

"Hey, Blurr," Max spoke through Hotstreak's comlink, "is there something of any importance about one hundred and fifty kilometers due east of here?"

"Not that I can think of," Blurr answered, "Other than our main city, Breakdown's workshop, and the racetrack that covers most of the north-west portion of the planet, the land is pretty much desert wasteland. Why?"

"I was scanning the area with the infrared, and I picked up a trail that matched Freeride and Siren's moving that direction—_not_ into _Seta Alpha Five_. It goes straight into the middle of the desert, stops, and vanishes completely."

"You sure about that, Max?" Hotstreak asked doubtfully.

"The satellite doesn't lie, bro."

"Hmm," Blurr pondered, "we'll go check it out after the valley. The SA5 Barrier is just a few more clicks ahead of us. Max, map out a course to the last coordinates of that trail and save it to Hotstreak's mainframe."

Max acknowledged as the convoy pushed forward. When they reached the SA5 Barrier, Max hopped out of Hotstreak's cab as the three racecars transformed to robot mode. The barrier glowed a bright pink-orange hue and cackled softly from the electrical current that flowed within, keeping anyone from passing through without the codes. According to Max's map, the barrier circled around the infected valley some several thousand miles in diameter and even had a domed "ceiling" to keep foolhardy thrill seekers from trying to go over the wall. The entry codes were designed to open only a small panel in the energy wall rather than shutting the mechanism down. This ensured that—if for any reason a team was sent out here—only one bot could pass through at a time, and it would prevent anything from escaping into Velocitron's metropolis.

"Before we pass through," Blurr said, "we must remember that this area is toxic and affects organics just as much as us Transformers. Max, you might feel the effects quicker than we would, so I think this is as far as you go."

"Nonsense, Blurr," Max waved him off childishly, "I came prepared."

She pressed a small button attached to her wristband which caused a black and silver protective suit to materialize from nowhere. It was not a bulky, cumbersome outfit but fitting and flexible. The material looked like it could withstand a high concentration of radiation, but the design was like a motorcycle stunt-rider. The device she activated came fully equipped with insulated gloves, knee-high boots, a helmet, and a small but high-powered life-support unit that held snug to her back like a school bag. Of course, it just could not have been complete without the Autobot insignia placed proudly front right chest portion of the suit and the back of the life-support pack.

"Very resourceful, Maxine," Clocker commented.

"Thanks," Max said raising the tented visor of the helmet, "It's a little something my parents have been perfecting for some time. They were actually meant to help humans travel more comfortably over Space Bridges, but for added safety they were tested in the most extreme of conditions, if you take my meaning."

"I'm impressed," Hotstreak nodded.

"Me, too," Blurr agreed, "You humans never cease to amaze me. Well, then, let's get going, shall we?"

Blurr typed the access codes into a small ten-key pad to his right, and a break in the force field opened up. Blurr walked in first, checking to make sure it was safe for the others to follow. Three seconds passed before Max stepped through, then Clocker, then Hotstreak. Blurr typed in a second set of codes on the inside keypad to seal the breach.

"Okay," Blurr said softly, "we're on our own in here. The energy barrier obstructs our comlinks. We won't be able to call for outside help, so make it your best effort to not need any. Hotstreak, how far are we from where you were?"

"Quite a ways," Hotstreak answered, "Vehicle mode will get us there quicker, and with the topographic layout Max provided, it should be a fairly smooth ride."

"Lead the way, kid."

They went back to vehicle mode, and Max rode with Hotstreak once more as he took to the road he vaguely remembered as the stretch he raced against Road Rage on. Some of the memories began to return, but it did not help him much. Mostly that was because those thoughts were bombarded with the horrific sight of the three mutant Transformers he and Blade had to defend against. The last thing Hotstreak wanted was a second confrontation with either of the surviving two monsters (he distantly remembered destroying Road Rage in battle), but he was ready to take them on if the need arose. It did not take long before the entire convoy came upon the wreckage of the battle. Hotstreak had accelerated without warning, leaving Clocker and Blurr behind without explanation as he headed to a somewhat familiar patch of upturned sand and gravel. When he finally came to a halt, he had Max climb out so he could transform. The young mech looked around the area with dwindling hope.

"Uh, 'Streak?" Max grasped his attention, "I think we lost Blurr and Clocker. You practically shot off like a bullet when you caught sight of all this carnage."

Hotstreak did not reply to her. He continued scanning the area, magnifying his optic sensors to further his line of sight. He searched with what little optimism he had left that Blade Stryke had somehow managed to escape her captors and was hiding nearby in Stasis Lock. It was all in vain, of course, as all he could see were the parts and gears that had been stripped from both of them.

"Ya know," Max spoke up again, "you were in pretty bad shape when we found you, but I don't think any of us had a clue as to what you and Blade had to go through to stay functional."

"Yeah," Hotstreak finally responded but at a low, sad octave, "we both put up quite a fight for bots that had never had any kind of real field-combat training. I can't believe—no, I _refuse_ to believe that I could survive all this and she couldn't."

"So…why are we searching up here? Didn't you say the creatures took her underground through the ravine?"

"They did, but—"

"Hotstreak!" Blurr's voice echoed over the valley as he and Clocker finally caught up to him, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Clocker added, "What's the big idea taking off without warning us like that? Where's the fire, huh?"

"Cool it, Clocker. Did you find anything, Hotstreak?"

"Just bad memories here," Hotstreak shrugged, "but the real search will begin down in the _Seta Ravine_."

"Then let's move. I haven't picked up any signs of life, but that doesn't mean we're safe. We should avoid making too much noise."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and the bots chose not to return to vehicle mode. They tried not to go too fast for Max who was taking four steps for every one step the bots took. Her curiosity about the valley slowed her down quite a bit, too. She looked up at the sky and noticed it was still bright and sunny, but according to the watch built in to her suit, Velocitron's sun was supposed to have set nearly an hour and a half ago.

"Hey, Blurr," the young woman addressed as she caught up to the group, "how can the sun still be shinning at this hour?"

"It's not," Blurr answered with a chuckle, "The barrier around the area generates an artificial form of sunlight—another safety precaution should anyone absolutely have to come through here. Near as we can tell, the creatures are more prone to coming out in the cover of darkness, with the exception of what happened to Hotstreak and Blade Stryke. However, even night assaults are rarely reported, given the number of young hot-rodders that use to come out here for a thrill. We wouldn't have even known for certain that the attackers were indeed disfigured Transformers had 'Streak not made it out alive."

"They're not afraid of the light, Blurr," Hotstreak butted in, "About all the good this artificial sun's gonna do is take away their 'surprise attack advantage.'"

"That's better than nothing, kid."

With that, they continued on towards the ravine in silence. Clocker had asked Max to grab some samples of the mutated plant life, hoping that he—with Towline's help—could find a way to reverse the toxic effects of the mutagen. Max was only able to secure one specimen when the group heard a low rumbling from the ground below.

"Wha-what was that?" Max stammered when the sound faded.

"It came from below," Clocker observed.

The rumbling started up again, only louder this time; small tremors agitated the land. Hotstreak immediately recognized this unnatural seismic activity and moved quickly to warn everyone.

"It's Venomous!" he shouted, "He's burrowing beneath us the same way he did when he got Blade! We've got to get our skid plates to higher ground, now! Move!"

Hotstreak, Clocker, Blurr, and Max moved as fast as they could, but the monster proved himself quicker as he burst through the ground like an erupting geyser. The force of his arrival in the midst of the team was so powerful that each member was thrown into the air and backwards in opposite directions. Max, however, did not go far because she was caught in mid-flight and gripped tightly by Venomous' massive hand. The monster snarled in Max's face as she struggled in his grasp.

"Hey, King Kong!" Max shouted angrily, "Put me down! I'm no damsel in distress! Do I _look _like a blond to you?!"

Venomous only growled again; "Venomous…hungry!" he roared sounding kind of weakened, "Venomous…go four…solar cycles with no…nourishing Spark! Venomous…must feed! Even if…just puny Minicon!"

"_Minicon_?" Max echoed, "I'm no Minicon, you stupid spazzicon! I'm human!"

For a brief moment, Venomous stopped growling, staring at the black-and-silver-clad woman with a dumbfounded expression. He sniffed her then cringed in disgust; "Flesh creature!" he sneered, "No…Spark! Useless! Venomous… need…Spark!"

Venomous angrily threw his arm back and hurled Max away, and she went flying out of control towards the ravine! Her screams of terror only lasted for a moment before she was caught by a large pair of metal but gentle hands.

"Gotcha, Max!" Clocker's voice resonated in the speaker unit of Max's helmet, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Max answered, "thanks for canceling my flight, Clocker."

"My pleasu—whoa! Whoa!"

Clocker's landing—or what barely passed for one—was not quite on stable ground. In fact, he ended up on the toe bearings of one foot on the edge of the _Seta Ravine_, and he was quickly losing balance. He tried to regain his footing—for his _and_ Max's sakes—but a sudden tremor sent his way from Venomous foiled that plan quickly. He clutched Max safely to his chest plate as the two of them fell in screaming!

"Max! Clocker!" Hotstreak shouted then turned to face Venomous who had begun to flee, "You'll pay for that, Venomous!"

He charged after the monster in a rage. Blurr tried to call him back, but that proved folly in the boy's current state. So Blurr raced over to the crumbling edge of the ravine trying to get a visual on Max and Clocker. Of course, he had no such luck so he tried the comlink.

"Clocker?" he called, "Do you read me, buddy? Clocker!"

There was about five minutes of dead air over the frequency before a response finally came; _"Yo!"_ Clocker's cheery voice filtered through his obviously damaged comlink, _"How's the weather up there, Blurr?"_

"Slag the jokes, Clocker. Are you and Max all right?"

_"Nothing hurt but our pride,"_ Max answered, _"but Clocker is waist-deep in a clay bed. He's gonna need to be dug out."_

"Okay, hang tight guys. Hotstreak took off after that creature, and I'll need his help to pull you out. Keep your coms open; I'll be right back…don't go anywhere."

_"Right, like we have a choice?"_

Blurr ignored that as he transformed to vehicle mode and took off in the direction he had seen Hotstreak and Venomous go. Meanwhile, down in the ravine and despite Clocker's uncomfortable position, he and Max decided to explore the caverns that weaved through the underground. Clocker gave Max a small camera that was wirelessly linked to the mech's optic sensors. She attached the tiny device to the side of her helmet.

"This way," Clocker explained, "I'll be able to see and hear everything that you will without worrying about straining my gears trying to get out of this little natural trap."

"Agreed," Max concurred, "And with any luck, maybe I'll be able to find something to help dig you out of that mess."

Max departed from Clocker heading east according to the compass that flashed across the virtual screen on the inside of her helmet's visor. It was no pleasant stroll through the park having to scale the decimated metal carcasses of those that had the misfortune of meeting the monsters for dinner. Max had to force herself to believe that she would not find Blade Stryke in such a miserable state.

"Are you _seeing_ this, Clocker?" she asked trying not to think of the possibilities.

_"Yeah,"_ Clocker answered with the same tone of sadness, _"it's barbaric. These poor bots whose Sparks were eaten, they…they can never be One with the Matrix. What a horrific fate for anyone. I wouldn't have wished it on the worst of Decepticons."_

"That's deep…"

Max continued her trek through the caves. She noticed that the mutagen presence altered in each little fissure she entered. It was non-existent in the area Clocker had gotten trapped in, heavy in the chamber next to him, and mild in the one she was in now.

"Interesting," she said mostly to herself, "This must be how they were able to overtake their victims: they tricked their toxic sensors."

She pressed forward without asking Clocker his opinion. She went deeper into the monsters' lair until a signal alarm beeped subtly within her helmet. She ran over to a pile of empty Transformer bodies and began to rummage through the mess of metal before she found what the scanner had picked up.

"I think I've found something!" she called out, "It's wedged in the ground here, and it's radiating with some kind of weird energy."

_"What is it?"_

"Let me get it out so you can see it better. Hold on."

Max took a hold of what she presumed to be the handle of a sword and slowly began to pull it free of its resting place. It was too heavy for her to just yank out, so she had to pace herself. When she got it out just enough for identification, she heard Clocker sigh in realization.

_"That's one of Blade's swords,"_ he whispered, _"it's unmistakable"_

"Why is it glowing like this, though?"

_"I don't know…but we should get it topside. Is there…any other remains of her?"_

"Nothing…she might have gotten out."

_"Let's hope. Get back to me. I'm going to call Blurr and Hotstreak."_

Dragging the weapon behind her, Max headed back towards the cavern where she had left Clocker to wait for rescue. Within seconds, a sturdy, rope ladder strong enough to hold weight heavy as a spacecraft was lowered into the ravine, and Max and Clocker were pulled out to safety. Much to their surprise, only Blurr waited for them at the top.

"Where's 'Streak?" Max asked.

Blurr shrugged; "He's out of scanning range," he answered, "and he's angry. We need to hurry and get to him before he does something he'll regret."

Max and Clocker agreed quickly and the three of them raced off in Hotstreak's last known direction.

* * *

Hotstreak caught up to Venomous in the mountain pass without much effort at all and trounced the monster in his hunger-ravaged state. However, even in his weakness, Venomous was still a very dangerous foe. The mutant began making a loud hacking sound with his vocal processor; he was preparing to spit his acidic fluid at Hotstreak! The younger mech, having learned from experience, did not give the monster even the slightest chance to follow through with his attack as he stood up quickly and slammed his foot down on Venomous' neck joint. There was not enough power behind the mild attack to do any real damage to the creature's processor—which was not Hotstreak's intent at any rate—but just enough that the flow of Venomous' burning fluid was blocked off, canceling the would-be devastating attack. Venomous only struggled for a moment, but the intense, painful hunger within him forced him to accept capture for the moment.

"Venomous…knows your Spark," the creature breathed seethingly, "Different outside…but a Spark…never changes…Venomous never forgets…this strong Spark!"

"Good," Hotstreak answered sarcastically, "then we won't have to waist time on getting reacquainted, and you will already know why I've come back to this place. You do, don't you? Don't you?!"

Venomous growled once in defiance but quickly rethought his actions given his current position; "Yeeessssss," he answered with a low hiss, "Venomous… knows…"

"Then make this easier on yourself, and tell me where she is!"

"Venomous…Venomous," the monster hesitated to answer this time, "Venomous …does not…know…"

Hotstreak was not convinced; "Venomous better think harder," he said, "if he wants to continue to function!"

He aimed his arm-mounted blaster steadily at Venomous who only snarled irately at him. Even in his anger, Hotstreak could not bring himself to end this pitiful creature's life, but he was not above instilling fear to the contrary. He fired once, the laser beam just barely missing the side of Venomous' face and burning into the ground beneath him.

"Did _that_ jog your memory?" Hotstreak asked with heavy emphasis as he returned his aim to the center of Venomous' face."

"Venomous' memory…better than anyone!" Venomous growled arrogantly, "optic sensors…different…"

Hotstreak relaxed his aim just for a moment, looking down at Venomous with a curious but still-contempt glare; "What do you mean?" he demanded, strengthening his aim once more, "Explain yourself!"

"Four solar cycles ago," Venomous told the story carefully, "Venomous…and Skullgrin…fight over femme's Spark…Venomous wins! Venomous…returns to feast, but…femme come out…of Stasis Lock too…soon. Attacked femme, Venomous did…but bright light…eat femme first! Blinded Venomous…knocked Venomous out. Not seen…femme—or Skullgrin—since; Venomous…swears…"

The story was too unlikely for Hotstreak to believe, but Venomous was plainly too stupid to fabricate such a detailed lie as that. Or was he? Perhaps his idiocy was just another ruse to lure his enemies and potential preys into his traps. Hotstreak refused to fall for it. He lifted Venomous up by the neck joint and pinned him to the mountain wall, jabbing his blaster into the mutant's chest plate.

"You're lying!" Hotstreak insisted, "What did you do?! Answer me!"

"Venomous…swears!" the monster reiterated with sincere fear, "Venomous…not know! Venomous…swears!"

Hotstreak did not want to hear anymore and moved his weapon to Venomous' face. However, before he could pull the trigger, he heard the voice of Blurr blaring over his comlink.

_"'Streak!"_ he shouted, _"For Primus' sake tell me I'm getting through to you!"_

"I'm a little preoccupied at the moment, Blurr," Hotstreak responded, some of the anger no longer existent in his vocal octave, "but yeah, I hear ya."

_"Let him go, kid. He's of no use to us. I already got Max and Clocker out of the ravine, so there's nothing more we can do here! Don't do anything you might regret!"_

Hotstreak glanced at Venomous, his heated anger returning; "I'm not leaving," he said to Blurr with determination, "until he tells me where Blade is! I've come too far to give up on her now!"

By that time, Blurr and Clocker made it to Hotstreak's location. They were far enough from Hotstreak and Venomous, so Max got out of Blurr's cab so he could transform. However, Blurr did not do the talking.

"There's nothing he can tell us that we don't already know," Max said just loud enough to be heard over Venomous' snarling and teeth-gnashing, "Blade's not here."

"How can you be sure?" Hotstreak asked, slowly and carefully loosening his hold on Venomous but keeping his weapon on him.

"Because while you went gallivanting after your, uh, _friend_ there, Clocker and I were exploring the caves below _Seta Alpha Five_. I went through every nook and cranny; she's not there. _If_ they had taken her Spark, they would have still kept the exostructure like a trophy. We didn't find her."

Hotstreak sighed heavily. _Failed again,_ he thought as he released Venomous. The beast growled angrily as he scampered off into the mountains. Hotstreak shook his head in disappointment and rejoined the team.

"I wasn't really going to slag him, you know," Hotstreak revealed with a sly but honest grin, "just scare him a little."

"Yeah, we know," Blurr assured, "but you had us going there for a nano. Let's get back to Towline. Max and Clocker may have found something to aid our next mission."

There was not much else to be said, so the group headed back to the SA5 Barrier Control Center. Then, the deep snarl of Venomous' vocal processor grasped Max's attention, and she looked back and up towards the mountain tops. It was where the creature had taken refuge in the shadows, and he pounced without warning at Hotstreak!

"'Streak, look out!" Max shouted pointing at the sky, her forefinger following Venomous' trajectory.

Hotstreak turned just in time to see the monster but not enough time to give thought to his reaction. By instinctive impulse, Hotstreak raised his arm-mounted blaster at the beast, but by some strange power, a great sword materialized in his right hand! Hotstreak was briefly caught off guard, gazing in perplexed wonder at this new weapon that was enflamed with a subtle blue electricity-like energy. Temporary or not, the distraction was just the window that Venomous needed to make his strike, but at the last possible instant, Hotstreak came back to his senses, prepared to defend himself. The Autobot first stopped Venomous in his tracks by slamming his forearm to the monster's chest plate then without a moment's hesitation jabbed the sword up through Venomous' lower jaw and pierced through the top of his helm. Venomous ceased to function instantly, falling to the ground in the heap of twisted metal he already was. Hotstreak recollected himself before chancing another look down at the sword, but it had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Hotstreak turned his gaze to his friends who appeared just as shocked beyond rational thought.

"Let's get out of here," Blurr finally broke the silence, "Before something else happens."

The others agreed without argument. In their haste, they did not notice the strange green and white sports car trailing behind them, following them out of _Seta Alpha Five_ under the cover of Velocitron's velvet night. On its hood, a bright red Autobot symbol was decaled, but cut diagonally from end to end of it was a deep gash all the way through the car's enamel. A new body and a newly motivated desire for power drove Road Rage on the brink of restrained insanity after his first defeat by the Autobot Hotstreak.

"I'll destroy his Spark this time," he calculated, "and I'll claim that power for my own! Vengeance is mine! Ha, ha, ha!"


	13. Chapter 12: To Jungle Planet!

**Chapter Twelve:  
To Jungle Planet!**

The next morning, Hotstreak was in Towline's science lab, curious to know if the tech had any thoughts on the strange energy sword that had appeared in and disappeared from his hand. Towline, though, was currently busy with the tests he was running on Blade Stryke's sword which had been pulled from the depths of the _Seta Ravine_.

"Don't misinterpret, son," Towline was saying, not once taking his optics off his work, "I'm very curious to find out the cause of your recent experience, but without a tangible object to study, such efforts would be in vain."

Hotstreak scratched his helm and sighed; "I guess that makes sense," he responded looking over Towline's shoulder at Blade Stryke's recovered sword, "So…what've you learned from that?"

"Nothing about Blade, if that's what you mean, but…take a look at this."

The older mech commanded the lights in the building to shut off, and the room went pitch black save for the illumination of Hotstreak and Towline's optic sensors. That was almost comical to see, like two cartoon characters on an otherwise blacked-out screen. Hotstreak was a little confused.

"While your optics are a lovely shade of orange," he said sarcastically, "I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary in the dark."

"Just wait a nano," Towline assured, "science takes time; watch."

As his optics began to adjust to the lack of light, Hotstreak could just barely make out Towline's outline. He was holding what looked like a scanning wand in his left hand, and he was sweeping back and forth like the beam mechanism in what humans called a "copier machine." As the object passed over, portions of the blade reacted, glowing with a dim electric blue light.

"How—?" Hotstreak was baffled, "How did you do that?"

"When Silverbolt heard about the possible discovery of the All Spark," Towline explained as the lights came back on, "he had Wheeljack fashion three of these… locators, if you will, that have a small concentration of energy from the Iacon Chambers stored in them. It's theorized that that power was originally provided by the All Spark, but we don't have anything like Cybertron's ICs here on Velocitron. Blade's sword shouldn't have reacted to the scan like that, unless…"

Towline trailed off leaving Hotstreak in an unbearable suspense while the older mech shuffled through some data tracks for an unspecified compilation of text. When he finally found what he was looking for, he loaded it into the computer and went on scanning through all the data on the disc until he found his particular file. Hotstreak was getting a bit edgy in Towline's silence, but he managed to maintain his composure and save face when he spoke up.

"Unless what?" he asked.

"Unless," Towline responded slowly, "the scientific theories about the ICs are actually facts, and the life-giving power flowing through them really _is_ from the All Spark."

Hotstreak raised an optic ridge in confusion; "Okay…" he mused, "…so what you're saying is…yeah, I don't get it. What does all that have to do with Blade's sword and its reaction to the scan?"

"Think about it, kid. This weapon is radiating with IC power, and since we don't have an IC on Velocitron it means…?"

Hotstreak crossed his arms over his chest plat in contemplation; "Um…" was the only answer he could muster.

Towline smacked the palm of his servo to his forehead; "Slag it all, Hotstreak!" he blurted, "Science really is over your helm isn't it? That _means_ it was here, kid! The All Spark was right here on Velocitron, and Blade Stryke was right there with it—within centimeters of it, at least!"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Hotstreak exclaimed when the realization hit him, "So then, there's still a chance she survived!"

"Or was incinerated," Towline contradicted, his tone shifting from excitement to a gloomy uncertainty, "The All Spark is said to be raw power. Very few tales show bots coming in contact with it and surviving. That which gives life, can also take it under certain circumstances."

_What a way to kill a hope, Towline,_ Hotstreak thought almost bitterly. Just then, Blurr entered the science lab with Max in tow. At dawn's first light, the two of them had gone back out to the desert to follow up on the Energon trail Max had found the day before. They had hoped to use that trail to locate Freeride and Siren, and now some of Hotstreak's own hope returned.

"Blurr! Max!" He shouted with renewed enthusiasm, "Please tell me you have some better news than what I've been hearing."

"Not gonna happen, bro," Max spoke up first, a hit of annoyance in her voice, "the trail was just another dead end. We followed it all the way to the last bit, and there was nothing there but their tire tracks, which by the way just cut off in the middle of the desert! There was nothing but a freaking crater of sinking sand!"

"That's not all," Blurr added much more calmly than Max, "We also found evidence of a large space transport vehicle that must have occupied the same spot. I think it's safe to say that those two femmes are no longer on Velocitron."

"But how's that possible?" Hotstreak asked.

"I don't know," Blurr admitted, "but as of now, our search missions for the femmes are officially over. We've done everything we could for them, now it's time to help our allies on Jungle Planet—even though they don't remember being allies. Towline, could you get _any_ communications to the beast bots?

Towline shook his head; "Negative," he said, "all com channels on Jungle Planet are dead. I can't even get a signal from their Space Bridge, which means that _that's_ offline as well. It's like a planet-wide quarantine."

"No Space Bridge?" Max echoed, "Great. Now we'll have to find another way to the planet."

"_We?_" Blurr repeated sharply, "Just what makes you think you're going _this_ time?"

Max was momentarily taken by surprise; "Well," she spoke carefully, "why wouldn't I? I'm already in this deep with everything."

"You're not coming. The whole of Jungle Planet seems hostile now, and we won't be able to keep you safe _and_ focus on the beasts. Sorry, kid, you're going to have to sit this one out."

"But I have—"

"_That's_ an order, Maxine; it's not open for debate. I'm not hearing any more about it."

Max folded her arms defiantly but did not press the issue any further. Satisfied, Blurr called Clocker in from the training course, and when he arrived, Blurr started explaining his plan for Jungle Planet.

"For starters," he began, "we'll deal with getting to Jungle Planet. Just because their Space Bridge is offline doesn't mean we can't still travel by ours."

"True," Towline agreed with just a hint of doubt, "but it's a dangerous venture. Without a receiving bridge to lock on to, the sender could become unstable, and the travelers could be flung all over the planet. The chances of everyone landing in a safe location—and all together—are approximately seven thousand two hundred twenty-four to one. That's bad enough considering the treacherous landing possibilities."

"A chance we'll have to take. Aim the Space Bridge as best as you can towards a safe clearing. There should be some acceptable coordinates stored in the computer memory from Hot Shot's last visit. Anyway, once we get there, we'll need to locate whoever's in charge. Clocker and Hotstreak, I want you two ready to depart by 1430 hours. That means you'll have half the day to prepare the Space Bridge, Towline."

Towline acknowledged and departed for the Space Bridge terminal. Max also left the science lab, but she didn't bother to tell anyone where _she_ was going. When she was out of earshot, Hotstreak looked over at Blurr and raised an optic ridge matter-of-factly.

"She'll end up going to Jungle Planet anyway, you know," he said smugly, "You'll see."

Blurr did not bother to respond. He was confident in that even though Max was persistent, the young human would not disobey his command. Without further discussion, Blurr and Clocker left the science lab, but Hotstreak opted to stay behind a little longer. He looked over at the sword on the lab table; it was all that was left of his friend, and he considered taking it as his own weapon. After all, Skullgrin was still at large and every bit as dangerous as Venomous and Road Rage were, and Hotstreak's new weapon was too random to be reliable. He reached his hand out towards the handle of the sword, and as he did, he head something.

_"Hotstreak…"_ a voice called out like a whisper.

Thinking someone was nearby, Hotstreak pulled his hand back; "Hello?" he sad, he voice echoing down empty halls, "Blurr?"

When no one answered, Hotstreak shrugged and returned to the sword. Again he reached out to pick it up, and again the voice called out to him, only much louder.

_"Hotstreak!"_

"What the—?" the young Autobot was startled, "It's coming from the sword?"

Hotstreak did not hesitate any further as he took a hold of the black and silver weapon, and when he did, it was like a thousand voices crying out for help. He was surrounded by a halo of that strange blue electric light which dissipated until Hotstreak could see the distorted image of a world that he could only identify as Jungle Planet. Half of the population of beast bots seemed to be fleeing in terror from some unseen foe. There was one bot, almost completely blurred to vision, that appeared to be leading the frightened beasts to safety. Then a voice from s distance—a femme—called out to the leader.

_"Lookout, Depth Charge!"_

Then there was an explosion, and Hotstreak was thrown from the dream! Blade Stryke's sword clattered to the floor as Hotstreak fought to regain himself. _What in the name of Cybertron was that?_ he thought when he could finally see straight, _A vision of Jungle planet? But how could I get visions from Blade's sword? Unless…_ As the thought trailed off, Hotstreak remembered what Towline had said about the weapon being infused with All Spark power; perhaps the vision was actually induced by the residual energy from the All Spark onto the blade. _Okay,_ the young mech pondered once more, _that explains where the hallucination came from, but…Towline had had his servos on that sword all day. Why didn't _he_ see anything?_ He looked down at the weapon he had dropped on the floor, the light-blue electric currents subtly running over it, and he realized it was the same substance his own mysterious sword had been made of.

"Coincidence?" he asked himself aloud, "I think not. I've got to tell Blurr about this…and about what I saw!"

As he was leaving, Hotstreak took one last look at the fallen sword. The electric currents had ceased to flow, leaving the weapon dormant with no obvious signs of power to it. He hesitated at first, wondering whether or not to leave it where it lay, but he decided that that was ridiculous in itself. He reached for it and, hearing no voices, picked it up once more. Seeing no vision this time, he proceeded to store the blade on his back.

"I think I'd better take this with me," he decided at long last, "If the lingering All Spark power gives me any more visions, it might even lead me to find Blade Stryke and the others."

He dashed out of the science lab towards the Communications Center with his newfound knowledge, full of new hope for the upcoming mission.

* * *

Blurr was on the comlink to Autobot City on Earth talking with Jazz, the stand-in commander in Crosswise's stead. They were discussing the possibilities of the All Spark's recent discovery.

"According to Towline," Blurr was saying, "there's a good chance the All Spark may have been here on Velocitron at least for a brief period of time. A recovered weapon from one of our missing femmes was completely saturated with power matching that which flows through the Iacon Chambers on Cybertron."

_"Wild, Blurr,"_ Jazz responded in wonder, _"absolutely wild. Still, there's not much the rest of us can do. Even _if_ the All Spark had been there, it's not there now, so whatever proof you may have won't be of much help. The All Spark—if legends are true—could have transported itself halfway across the universe by now."_

"I know, Jazz, but there is also the slim chance it may have gone to one of the Cyber Planets. Don't worry too much about focusing on the All Spark just yet, but do me a favor. My team is about to head out to Jungle Planet for a recon mission, so would you mind relaying my message about the All Spark to the other Leaders-Apparent?"

_"Sure thing, Blurr. By the way, have you heard anything from Jetfire and the others?"_

A new shadow of concern fell over Blurr's mechanical face as he pondered Jazz's question; "No," he said finally, "Come to think of it, I haven't put much thought into the whereabouts of our leaders until you mentioned them."

_"Well, it's been almost two solar cycles since they left your system, and there hasn't been a single contact from them since. I'm a little worried."_

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Jazz," Blurr said, hiding his own concern, "They told us before they departed that such connections might be impossible to achieve."

_"Perhaps, but the path they took to the starship _Atlantis_ should have lead them right by Cybertron and Earth—well within communications range."_

"It'll take them at least two more solar cycles to pass Gigantion, though. We should give them that long to correspond with us on their progress—we can save the worrying for later. For now, let's fill in Silverbolt and Hoist on the current All Spark status."

_"Got it. Jazz, out."_

When the communication ended, Blurr's hidden fear for the Planet Leaders surfaced. He accessed the main computer and ordered it to trace out the last known trajectory of the Planet Leaders and the predicted path they were on towards the exploration ship _Atlantis_, the vessel Jetfire had chosen to investigate first. Once the computer complied, Blurr saw that the Leaders had already passed Cybertron and so estimated the approximate time in which they would pass by Gigantion.

"Computer," Blurr commanded, "copy this file and send it to Hoist on Gigantion with the following encrypted message:

_"'The Planet Leaders will be passing you in two point seventy-five solar cycles. We have been unable to make contact, but they should be in com your range by then. Keep the rest of us informed._

_—Commander Blurr, Velocitron'"_

The computer obeyed and sent the message immediately. No sooner had that been completed did Hotstreak come busting through the Communication Center doors. Blurr was taken by surprise, and all the drones present went into security mode with their electromagnetic pulse rays ready. Hotstreak paid them no mind at all as he ran straight to Blurr.

"Sentinel Drones! Stand Down!" Blurr ordered quickly before turning to Hotstreak with a disappointed look, "By the Pit, Hotstreak! What in the Inferno has gotten your circuits all in a twist?"

"Hold on a nano!" Hotstreak responded hastily, looking for something amidst the darkened corners of the room, "Um…has Towline got the Space Bridge positioned yet?"

"Not quite, why? And what in the galaxy are you looking for?"

"Max…I know she's in here somewhere eavesdropping."

Blurr folded his arms over his chest plate and raised an optic ridge in amusement; "'Streak," he said clearing his resonator to hide a chuckle, "Max isn't even on the planet anymore. Sunstreaker picked her up about half a mega cycle ago and took her back to Earth."

"Oh…wait, what? Really? Where was I?"

"Don't act so surprised, kid. Max may be persistent, but she wouldn't go against direct orders. She sent for a ride just after I told her she couldn't come to Jungle Planet with us. That aside, why are you suddenly so concerned about the Space Bridge? Just the other day, you didn't even _want_ to go to Jungle Planet."

Hotstreak paused for a moment trying to gather his words together to explain his vision without sounding like a psycho-mech. Before long, he realized that that was an impossible plan, so he just told it as it had happened. He revealed what had happened when he touched the sword, trying very hard no to sound like a fool. He talked about the vision itself last, hoping his vivid details about a planet he had never actually seen before would be convincing enough.

"…and as for locating the bot in charge," Hotstreak concluded, "if I heard correctly, that would be a mech called Depth Charge."

Blurr had been listening intently to everything the younger mech had to say, but the look in his optics was obvious skepticism. It was a radical story, after all; human children would not have believed it. Still, Blurr was not the type to dismiss anything, especially noting the specific planetary details of Jungle Planet when Hotstreak had never been off Velocitron before.

"You know that's quite a wild tale," he pointed out.

"I know," Hotstreak agreed in a rush, "it's slaggin' insane, but I know what I saw. We must get to Jungle Planet quickly, or the only thing left to rescue will be burnt-out toaster parts!"

Blurr nodded; "I don't want to challenge the possibility," he said in concurrence, "but Towline's work on the Space Bridge isn't finished yet. If he's rushed, it could land us in a volcano or over a cliff. The terrain on Jungle Planet is so wild that locating a safe entry zone could be next to impossible."

"Yeah, but—!"

"Hotstreak, unless your dream mystically gave you useful longitude and latitude, we aren't going anywhere. We don't have a choice but to wait until Towline finishes aligning the Space Bridge."

Hotstreak dropped his hands in defeat. Blurr was right; there was nothing that could be done to speed the process up. Hotstreak was beginning to get anxious. _Sure whish Freeride was here,_ he thought, _Right about now she'd have some brilliant idea about where to aim the bridge…like…_he let the thought trail as he realized the answer. _Of course! Why didn't we think about that before?_

"Blurr, I just thought of something," the youthful mech announced excitedly, "Aren't the coordinates for Jungle Planet's Space Bridge set on the safest ground of the world? Just because it's offline doesn't mean we can't land in the same location. Whaddaya think? No dreaming necessary."

Blurr was nearly floored by this revelation. Why had _he_ not thought of that? Why not Towline? _Oh well, _he thought humbly, _it's still my first week on the job; I'm bound to overlook a few details at first._

"Good idea, kid," he said at last, sounding fairly impressed, "I wish we'd recognized that sooner, but as they say: 'Better late than never.' I'll get the message to Towline; he should be able to get everything ready in just a few cycles."

Blurr alerted Towline immediately, and sure enough, the medic had the Space Bridge realigned in under five minutes. A few last adjustments even made it to where the bridge would not lose stability from not being connected to another terminal. Blurr, Clocker, and Hotstreak all assembled at the Space Bridge with Towline being the only witness to their departure. Normally, when a Planet Leader left for another world on a mission of diplomacy, the civilian population would be summoned to see them off. However, the nature of this particular task was classified Code Violet, which meant there was a high chance that the team involved would not return in one piece. Therefore, it was to be a covert mission, per Jetfire's orders.

"Okay, Towline," Blurr said authoritatively, "open the Space Bridge to Jungle Planet; coordinates twenty-four degrees latitude and thirty degrees longitude; Grid Theta; Sector Twenty-Six."

"Yes, sir," Towline acknowledged, "Opening Space Bridge…now!"

The mechanism roared to life, opening a circular gateway that looked like a digital portal on a video game bursting with it's kaleidoscope of glittering colors. A broad, near-invisible stretched out before the small group of Transformers well beyond their ability to see, and what a sight it was! Hotstreak had never been this close to the gateway before; he was astonished. Blurr, Clocker, and he all stepped onto the bridge at the same time, but for a brief moment, the experience was Hotstreak's alone to enjoy. Space surrounded the bridge like a tunnel, the vacuum held at bay by an unseen force field the entire distance. Velocitron's solar sphere made the sight twice as beautiful to any eye that beheld this wonder. A hand upon Hotstreak's shoulder broke him from his awe.

"You okay, 'Streak?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah…this is awesome."

"Good. Let's get going. This is a solar cycle and a half's travel by Space Bridge to Jungle Planet. We want to get there as soon as possible."

Hotstreak nodded, and Blurr ordered the Autobots to transform to vehicle mode in order to move faster. The three mechs took off through the bridge to their destination. Meanwhile on Velocitron, Towline had averted his attention from the Space Bridge for a nano to check communications. That was the opening Road Rage needed to enter the portal himself.

"How kind of you to leave the door open for me," the mutant snickered silently, "Soon…very soon…I'll have my new powerful form, and that boy will be the one crawling in the sand!"

His laughter echoed like ghosts in the wind as he disappeared into the gateway to Jungle Planet.

The Unwelcoming Committee

Jungle Planet shimmered like a glass, jade jewel in the light of its massive solar sphere. Had it not been for the danger he remembered from his vision, Hotstreak would have been lost in awe of this sight.

The small convoy had nearly completed the day and a half journey over the Space Bridge with only a couple of hours left to go. Right about now, the Planet Leaders would be passing over Gigantion, and Blurr wondered any contact had been made yet. He tried to assert communiqués with Towline, but it seemed that the denizens of Jungle Planet had jammed all off-world comlinks as well as severing their own communications.

"Well, Autobots," he spoke up just moments from landing, "things are a bit worse than we thought. Seems like the Beast bots have jammed all com frequencies up to four thousand clicks out from and around their planet; until we can find someone to reconnect the lines, we'll be on our own."

"You can't be fraggin' serious!" Clocker complained, "We should've brought more bots with us. If the Beasts are _all_ hostile, the three of us won't even last a nano!"

"Don't blow a gasket, Clocks," Hotstreak laughed, "Towline's probably figured it out already and is taking action as we speak."

"I hope so," Blurr said cautiously, sharing some of Clocker's doubt, "but we can't worry about that right now. Transform and prepare for one incredibly rough landing!"

Hotstreak and Clocker followed Blurr's lead and transformed to robot mode. As they did, the Space Bridge suddenly began to shake and sloped at an unnatural angle. The path became too steep for the bots to maintain the necessary friction to keep their balance!

"By the Pit!" Clocker exclaimed as he began sliding down the bridge rapidly, "What the slag is goin' on?"

"Whoa!" Hotstreak shouted as he, too, started going down, "I thought Towline said we wouldn't lose stability!"

"He said we _might not_," Blurr corrected, assessing the situation and searching for a solution, "we can't blame him, and once again, we can't worry about that! Right now we need to concentrate on turning this dangerous fall in to a long, controlled jump. On my signal, go for the exit portal! Ready? Jump!"

The Transformers pushed themselves off the collapsing Space Bridge and literally dove through the portal into Jungle Planet's open sky. The mighty wind of this world knocked them off their original landing course, but they each managed to turn themselves around in midair so that their feet pointed downwards allowing them to gain control of their fall and land as safely as possible on a soft patch of ground several miles south of Jungle Planet's Space Bridge terminal platform.

"Anyone damaged?" Blurr asked once they were all on solid—or at least semi-solid—ground.

"I'm fine," Hotstreak answered first after running an internal systems check.

"I'm acceptably functional," Clocker said, "nothing too major, but I think I busted a piston pump in my knee joint."

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah, but it'll be very noisy."

"We'll deal. Let's find someone willing to tell us what's going on around here."

The Autobots took in their environs in order to determine the best direction to take, but they did not even get one step forward before they found themselves surrounded by ferocious laser fire!

"What the—? Take cover!" Blurr ordered.

His team quickly ducked behind the trees and large boulders, prepared to defend themselves from this sudden, unwarranted attack. Blurr chanced a peek from his cover, noting that the direction of the blasts never shifted to his team. The red and green beams streaked back and forth between two specific points of origin. _Too precise to be attacking us,_ Blurr thought tactically.

"Why are they firing at us?!" Hotstreak asked, breaking Blurr's thoughts.

"They're not," Blurr answered, "at least, not deliberately. It seems we've stepped into a battle that must have been going on before we even got here! I can't see either side of the battle, so lay low until this clears up!"

"Yes, sir!" Hotstreak and Clocker acknowledged in unison.

The Autobots lowered themselves all the way to the ground until they were lying on their chest plates and observed what little bit of the battle they could see. Intense roaring, snarling, and hissing all but overpowered the deafening shrieks of blaster bolts, and it was clear that the Autobots had indeed landed in one of Jungle Planet's many new battle grounds. Then suddenly, the firing ceases, and strange voices could now be heard from within the woods.

"Tarantulas, they're retreating!" a wheezing voice reported loudly.

"Keep after them, Sidewinder!" another voice, mid-high pitched and cackling—probably the one called Tarantulas—responded, "Magamatron's orders were to eliminate _any_ Maximals we come across!"

Seconds later, a large group of seven predator-like beasts emerged from their hiding place. The one up front was a black, gold, and purple transmetal tarantula spider, whose designation _had_ to be Tarantulas—what else? To his right was a giant, organic, gold king cobra; clearly Sidewinder. The ones that followed were a red, organic pterosaur, a black, blue, and silver transmetal great horned owl, an orange organic sand crab, and taking up the rear were a silver mechanical scorpion and a black and purple organic black widow spider. As the group charged passed, Blurr turned his attention to his team.

"Well," he said, "we know who the hostiles are. Let's move; we may have to cut in on this little dance."

Staying within the cover of the trees, Blurr lead his team forward, trailing after Tarantulas' group from scouting distance. However, the Autobots did not want to be behind the enemy only to arrive too late to keep them from damaging anyone. Inevitably, the Velocitronians picked up their pace and managed to get ahead of the enemy beasts without being detected. When they reached the end of the trail—which opened up into a great clearing—the Autobots saw that friendlies had been cut off and ambushed from the other direction by a different team of hostiles!

"No choice, Maximals," a transmetal rat with a New Jersey accent spoke up, "we've got to fight back! This recon mission's just become a struggle for survival!"

"Me, Grimlock, agree," said a mechanical tyrannosaurus rex, "Me, Grimlock think it time to bash metal!"

"But Rattrap!" a femme, transmetal peregrine falcon said with concern, "Cheetor was badly damaged by the Predacons' first attack! We can't protect him _and _fight them off; they'll have us outnumbered four to one!"

"If you got a better plan, Airrazor, then tell us, otherwise I suggest you shake those tail feathers and take a defensive position around Cheetor!"

The three functioning beasts of the small group of four circled their fallen comrade—a yellow furred organic cheetah—and transformed to robot mode aiming their weapons in the directions from where their adversaries were coming. But then, all fire suddenly ceased around the Maximals—the deathly calm before the massacring storm. Blurr and the Autobots watched in unbridled anticipation and impatience as they waited for the Predacons' imminent attack in order to jump in. If they intervened too soon, the Maximals might also see _them_ as the enemy.

"Me, Grimlock not like this," the tyrannosaur whispered, "it too quiet."

Then as if on cue, Tarantulas and his team emerged from hiding; "Well, Maximals," he snickered sinisterly, "then allow us to turn up the decibels! Ha, ha, ha! Predacons…attack!"

The Predacons opened fire once more as the other group—lead by a skeletal, transmetal Velociraptor and followed by a blue and gold transmetal scorpion/cobra fuzor, a giant organic fire ant, a giant organic yellow jacket, and a black and gold organic goliath bird-eating spider—also surfaced from hiding opposite of Tarantulas' team. Together, the Predacons totaled twelve, definitely more than the already half-damaged team of Maximals. Finally, Hotstreak could take no more.

"Blurr, we have to move in now!" the young mech begged, "They're going to get slaughtered out there!"

"Agreed!" Blurr concurred without a second thought, "Autobots: roll out!"

Blurr, Hotstreak, and Clocker leapt out from the cover of the jungle and took positions filling the gaps between the three Maximals that were still standing. Rattrap and Airrazor took quick glances at the Autobots asserting that they were there to help, but Grimlock did not appreciate the intrusion.

"Me, Grimlock not know you," he grumbled, "me think you Predacon spy!"

"Can it, Grimlock!" Rattrap commanded in irritation, "You'll have time to be suspicious later; right now, use that energy to push the Preds back!"

That was a bit of relief for the Autobots as they focused their weapons in the directions from which the Predacons attacked. Even with their support, the Maximals still found themselves on the losing side of the fight.

"They _still_ outnumber us!" Airrazor screamed above the laser fire, "We can't hold out much longer!"

"Me, Grimlock know that already, but me, Grimlock not go down without fight! Raaawwr!!"

Grimlock transformed to beast mode and charged Tarantulas and his team, spewing fire out from within his structure. Blurr acted on this.

"Clocker, cover him!" he ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Clocker obeyed as he redirected his fire.

"Hey, new guys!" Rattrap shouted over his shoulder, "Don't waste power covering the lizard! He can handle _that_ alone! Concentrate on Dinobot; _he's_ the brains behind the attack! Take him down, and the rest will fall!"

Hotstreak and Blurr turned attention to the transmetal Velociraptor identified as Dinobot, but Clocker kept providing cover for Grimlock. If this Dinobot were truly the tactician of the battle, hen he would be _expecting_ the Maximals to focus on him in order for Tarantulas to gain the advantage from behind. _The rat is a fool if he couldn't see that obvious trap,_ Blurr thought, _and the T-Rex just charged in blindly and arrogance…no way he can take out that whole squad alone with that mindset._ Therefore, Clocker was ordered to stay on Grimlock. However, it truly _did_ prove unnecessary as that group of Predacons was not prepared for the tyrannosaur's sudden rampage; they were easily trampled under foot—perhaps _too_ easily. Seeing the other team practically vanquished, Dinobot pulled back into the woods.

"Predacons!" Dinobot called out, "retreat!"

"Told ya, stranger!" Rattrap cheered, "Grim's better than any bulldozer in the universe!"

Clocker had gone up to check out Grimlock's handiwork, but he was not as enthusiastic as Rattrap was; "Hey, Blurr!" he called out, "How many beasts did we count in this group?"

"Seven," was the answer, "Why?"

"There's only five. Two are missing!"

"Me, Grimlock say you need optics repaired," Grimlock sneered, "Me not see seven when me come this way!"

"If Grimlock didn't see 'em," Rattrap defended his buddy quickly, "then they weren't there, stranger."

"Hold on a nano!" Hotstreak interjected, "Uh, Rattrap, right? Look, we realize our first impressions don't exactly warrant immediate trust, but we're telling you the truth. There were two others: a scorpion and a black widow spider."

"Well, if that's all," Rattrap spoke with contempt, "then we have nothing to worry about. The black widow probably ran away like the coward she is. It's just like that she-spider to turn tail in a battle."

Airrazor did not seem as confident as her rodent friend; "Yeah, that's like _her_," she agreed with emphasis, "but _not_ like Scorponok."

The two beasts looked at each other suddenly and shouted in unison: "Cheetor!"

Everyone turned around to see where the damaged cat bot was laying just as a rumbling in the ground echoed throughout the jungle. Both Maximal and Autobot alike made a mad dash for Cheetor to get him out of the way, but they were not fast enough. Scorponok burst through the ground firing rapid projectiles at them from the turrets that made up his scorpion claws. Then Dinobot and his team reemerged! The retreat had been a _diversion to cover a diversion_! Scorponok's attack allowed Dinobot to reposition his squad—and a rejuvenated Tarantulas with all but one of his teammates—in a circled perimeter around the Maximals and Autobots; they were trapped good! Scorponok stood in the middle of the circle in between Cheetor and his allies steadily aiming his guns at them, daring them to come closer.

"I don't think this plan was very well thought through," Clocker whispered to Blurr.

"Really?" Blurr asked with false shock, "I didn't even know there _was_ a plan."

"Silence, fools!" Dinobot shouted, "Scorponok, retrieve the stolen data from the cat, now!"

Scorponok, obeying Dinobot's command, began walking backwards slowly, keeping his weapons locked on target and twitching ever so slightly at any movement from the Maximals and their odd-looking allies. A sharp, needle-like prong extended from the tip of the scorpion's tail. It appeared to be an input device, and it proved to be such when Scorponok inserted it into an exposed output unit at the base of Cheetor's neck joint. After a few seconds, Scorponok let out a string of twisted mechanical beeps and whirs indicating that he had retrieved the data from the cheetah's mainframe and even erased it.

"Excellent, Scorponok," Dinobot praised him halfheartedly, "now get back in ranks!"

Scorponok violently burrowed back underground, and presumably got back in line—he never resurfaced, so it was difficult to know for sure. The Autobots glanced down at the fallen Maximal, and then Blurr did his best to speak to Hotstreak and Clocker without being heard by Dinobot or any other Predacon.

"They aren't going to let us go this easily," he whispered, "Their teamwork is far better than any battalion of Decepticons I ever fought against. I'd go so far as to say it may be better than most Autobot teams I've been part of; this makes them more unpredictable and twice as dangerous.

"Our armor can take more damage than the Beasts' can, so be prepared to go servo-to-servo with the enemy."

The other two mechs quietly agreed, but their moment came much quicker than even Blurr could have anticipated as Dinobot gave the termination order almost immediately after Blurr had made his own. Blurr quickly jumped in front or Airrazor to defend her from fire as Hotstreak covered the wounded Cheetor and Clocker the short-statured Rattrap. Grimlock's hide was mechanical rather than organic like his compatriots, so the Autobots left him to his business while they took direct fire from the Predacons. To Hotstreak, the raining laser fire was equivalent to a Level Four Racer Combat Training Course back on Velocitron, although the stings did not feel as sharp as the drones' he had battled against then. He knew, of course, that that was because of his Subaru® armor, which was twice as strong as his previous Chrysler® armor had been. His higher tolerance allowed him to divide his attention between monitoring his personal shield, protecting Cheetor, and searching for any possible ambush attempts from wayward Predacons. Then suddenly, the edges of his vision began to blur just as it had done in his vision of Jungle Planet. He doubted his armor strength had anything to do with that. _What do you want me to see?_ the young mech thought to himself but spoke to the All Spark power he knew was within him. Even as the thought passed, he saw the ground rising and falling as though a massive mecha-worm were tunneling heading right for him; Scorponok was coming back to finish the cat-bot off! Hotstreak did not have time to think up a plan as his normal sight returned only to see the scorpion's tail rise from the ground like a Sharkticon's dorsal fin from water, the sharp prong poised to stab through anything in his path. Hotstreak moved to grab Blade Stryke's sword from the compartment on his back plate, but as he raised his hand to get it, he sound his own mystical weapon, his gift from the All Spark, glowing in full ferocity against its master's encroaching enemy. Hotstreak did not stop to ponder its sudden, coincidental appearance as he made a crescent slash at the space between him and Scorponok. The blade never made contact with anything solid—the intent had been to scare the metal arachnid—but its wielder was surprised to see that a great crevice was left in the wake of the weapon's sweep of raw energy. Not only that, but it seared off half of Scorponok's tail! The Predacon squealed in pain as he reversed course and ran away. Hotstreak quickly grabbed the severed tail before it could hit the ground. It wriggled violently though it was detached from its body, and Hotstreak wrestled with the appendage before it finally lost power and went limp in the Autobot's grip. He hurled it into the midst of the battle, which caused the other Predacons to cease fire and stare in fear and confusion at the mech who separated it from its unit. Tarantulas particularly looked most curiously at the sword of pure energy this strange visitor carried.

"Ah, Dinobot," the spider chuckled nervously, "perhaps out current situation calls for an immediate, tactical withdraw?"

Dinobot was quick to agree without question as he called the troops off and fell back into the woods in a hasty retreat. The Predacons transformed to beast mode and followed their commander back to their base.

"We must report these _visitors_ to Magmatron," Dinobot was saying to Tarantulas, "Particularly, the one who cut off Scorponok's tail could easily turn this was against the Predacon cause!"

"I agree," Tarantulas responded with a hint of intrigue in his vocals, "and I should very much like to get a closer look at that marvelous weapon that boy of a mech was holding."

"Black Arachnia can accommodate that, I'm sure. Where is she?"

"The witch fled at the beginning of the battle as usual."

"Excellent. Contact her; tell her to abort her mission to the dragon's lair and track these off-worlders. Have her collect intelligence on them and, if at all possible, use her ability to download the boy's weapon."

Tarantulas snickered sinisterly as he broke off from the group and scurried off into the jungle and out of sight.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Maximals—though thankful for the assistance—turned their mistrust on the odd-looking mechs that had jumped into the recent fray.

"I don't know where you guys came from," Rattrap said bitterly, "but I think it's high time you am-scray while the am-scrayin's good!"

"What he's trying to say," Airrazor interjected quickly, "is thanks for the help, but we can handle it from here. We're not exactly open for tourism."

The three Autobots exchanged confused glances; "We're not tourists," Clocker tried to explain, "We're old friends of your Planet Leader, Scourge."

"Scourge?!" Airrazor repeated with more excitement now, "You know where he is, then?"

"No," Blurr shook his head disappointedly, "we were hoping someone here could tell us."

Rattrap scoffed at them as he watched Grimlock transform to beast mode and lift a stasis-locked Cheetor onto his back; "I told you not to get your hopes up, bird-lady," he said, "Scourge abandoned us, just like the boss fish said…besides, we can't believe what these _weirdoes _say!"

"Hey!" Hotstreak pushed his way to the front, "these _weirdoes_ just saved your ungrateful skid plates, mouse!"

"Well, whaddaya want, eh? A medal? Ha! Get lost, kid!"

Hotstreak advanced on Rattrap, but Blurr placed his servo on the younger mech's shoulder joint to stop him. The last thing the Autobots needed was to frighten off the only potential allies they had on the planet.

"This doesn't need to turn into a fight," the Autobot leader said, "we just need to speak to the mech called Depth Charge. We have it on…'good faith'…that he's the beast currently in charge."

His attempt to avoid the subject of Hotstreak's vision was a considerably weak one, but it seemed to work just fine on this small team of Maximals. Rattrap maintained his aggressive façade, however, and continued to deny aid to Blurr and his group. Through it all, Blurr took considerable notice in the change in the atmosphere. Airrazor's embarrassment whenever Rattrap spoke became more apparent—Blurr had noticed it before, but now that the battle was over, it showed more prominently. Rattrap himself had originally been quick to accept the Autobots' help, but now he was allowing his personal suspicions surface boldly. Then there was Grimlock who, at the beginning, accused the Autobots of being Predacon spies. He was less vocal now as he observed the interaction between his rodent friend and the off-world guests. He seemed much more patient than he originally appeared, and the air that flowed around him resonated a kind of authority that just screamed out to the universe.

"Depth Charge don't waste his time on outlanders," Rattrap spat one last time, "so make like a bee-droid and buzz off!"

Blurr allowed a smile to spread across his metal face; "Sorry, mouse," he said, "but I believe such decisions can only be made by your team commander…right, Grimlock?"

Rattrap and Airrazor were taken by complete surprise! _How did he know?_ Rattrap asked himself, _We were so careful to keep that information concealed!_ Grimlock did not share his comrades' shock, Blurr could tell, but he decided to humor them anyway.

"How you, stranger, know that me, Grimlock, lead?" he asked with obvious amusement.

"Simple, really," Blurr explained, "Rattrap is too much of a hothead to lead a group like this, and Airrazor seemed humiliated rather than supportive every time the rat spoke. A good leader maintains a clear mind at all times. I'll admit the seemingly blind solo charge into the depths of that Predacon group had me second guessing for a moment until I realized you were actually moving to higher ground to assess the situation and locate any possible escape route for your outnumbered and injured team."

Grimlock smiled a toothy grin in restrained pride at the recognition, but Rattrap only scowled with impatience.

"Big deal!" the small mech said, "It's not like that suddenly makes us buddies or nuttin'!"

"Grimlock?" Blurr reiterated with a slight tilt of his head.

"Me, Grimlock, say," the tyrannosaur said after a moment, "we take new friends to leader, Depth Charge."

"What?!" Rattrap wailed, "For bootin' up cold, Grim! They really _could_ be Pred spies!"

"They don't look much like Predacons to me," Airrazor observed, "and with long-range communications knocked out, the Preds wouldn't have been able to call for off-world aid."

"I don't trust 'em!"

"Me, Grimlock, gave order!" Grimlock bellowed, "You, Rattrap, will follow!"

An awkward silence followed while Grimlock and Rattrap stared each other down. However, it did not take long for Rattrap to concede to the dinosaur's command as he scoffed and transformed to beast mode. Airrazor also transformed. The Autobots observed their surroundings, realizing that the planet's terrain would be too rough for their vehicle modes. Blurr laid mention to this to Grimlock.

"That okay," the beast said, "Me, Grimlock, take you long way through meadow. Soon you, new friends, meet him, Depth Charge, and him thank you properly for helping us."

They tagged along behind Grimlock to the edge of the jungle as it opened up into a wide open plain. The Autobots then transformed to their vehicle modes and, resisting the urge to race across the land, traveled in a protective perimeter around the Maximals heading due west along the tree line.

In the darkness of the forest, Road Rage watched his target Hotstreak carefully. The mutant Transformer had landed clear on the other side of the jungle when the Space Bridge caved, but luckily for him, the sounds of battle lead him straight to his quarry. _Unfortunately_, however, the Autobots had new allies now; this was no time to even contemplate an attack.

"I need to wait until he's alone," Road Rage plotted with the air, "only then could I gain the advantage and destroy him without interference!"

He sunk back into the shadows and continued his silent stalk of his prey.

Depth Charge

The motley crew of robots came to and stopped at an enormous mountain set at the centermost area of the valley. There were no visible cave openings, so Hotstreak began to wonder if Grimlock had gotten himself lost on his own planet. However, as if reading the young mech's mind, Grimlock then transformed to robot mode and stepped straight through the mountain wall! The rippling effect caused by this unforeseen action gave an instant recognition to the mechanism.

"It's a hologram!" Hotstreak exclaimed, "But…couldn't this be easily detected by any passing enemies?"

Grimlock poked his head back out of the mountain; "Me, Grimlock say it not time for questions," he said, "him, Depthcharge, waiting."

Without further conversation, both Maximals and Autobots transformed to robot mode and walled through the rock projection into a cooled, dimly lit cave that appeared to slope down into the depths of the planet. Once everyone was safely inside, they heard a deep, metallic boom resonate from behind them. The Autobots turned to see that a massive iron door—much larger than the cave opening itself—had closed up behind them.

"Predacons not detect hologram," Grimlock spoke up suddenly, answering Hotstreak's ten-minute-old question, "because door has real rock bed on outside, and hologram shuts off when door closes."

"Cleaver," Blurr commented quietly then turned his attention to Cheetor and changed the subject, "What exactly was the kid carrying that got your enemies riled up so badly?"

"Codes," Airrazor answered, "Well, partial codes, anyway. Ever since the Predacons sabotaged planet-wide communications, we Maximals have been trying to restore them to gain tactical advantage in this war. One of our rouge operatives tipped us off to the facility at the far end of the East Jungle containing the fourth of ten encrypted sets of codes to reestablish communications."

"Rogue operative?" Blurr echoed skeptically, "You mean like someone who broke away from your team based on conflicting interests? You'd trust someone like that?"

"You're misunderstandin'," Rattrap defended, the hostility no longer resonating in his vocabulator, "Draga didn't desert us; she branched off of us, bearing in mind the exact same goals Depth Charge has of liberating our world of the Predacons. What caused this, however, might count as 'conflictin' interests,' I suppose."

"And what was that?" Clocker asked after a brief silence.

"_That_," Airrazor chimed in, "would be the moment Depth Charge began vocalizing his suspicions about Scourge abandoning us in our hour of need. That was bad enough, but then he began claiming his theories as true which is what inevitably lead to Draga and two others breaking away from Depth Charge's leadership.

"Draga was Scourge's most trusted advisor and battle tactician who moved up quickly in rank when the Predacons first started revealing their presence. Of course, at that time, no separate factions existed, though Scourge and his two captains Snarl and Leobreaker bore the same insignia as you guys do."

"Yes," Blurr confirmed, "Before he was reformatted by the planet as Leobreaker, Overhaul was sent here to obtain Jungle Planet's Cyber Key. There weren't any distinct factions here then, either. After Overhaul's reformatting into Leobreaker, Optimus Prime arrived in hopes of reasoning with Scourge, but Megatron had gotten to him first. Thus, Scourge flew the flag of the Decepticon army, but as time passed he began to see the error of his ways. By the end of the war, the Dragon had become an honorable Autobot warrior."

Rattrap sighed and shook his head in disagreement, but a harsh glance from Airrazor kept him from voicing his opinion. The cavern became steeper as the Transformers made their way down in brief silence. Before long, however, Rattrap was able to gain enough of his composure to pick up where Airrazor had left off.

"Anyway," he said, "Draga claimed to have been present during Scourge's disappearance, except her account was that he had been taken by some other-worldly force. She testified that Scourge was abducted from his own hall while he, Snarl, Leobreaker, and Draga were preparing a battle strategy against the sudden uprising of the Predacons. According to Draga, the entire mountain temple shook as though it'd been hit by a barrage of missiles; then a weird pillar of light materialized out of nowhere, sent an energy surge through all four bots' circuitry, and finally just swallowed Scourge, Leobreaker, and Snarl. Draga herself was found a megacycle later in emergency stasis lock by her own lieutenants Dilophotron and Hyenix and by Depth Charge. Her circuits were almost completely fried.

"Needless to say, once the Preds gained knowledge of Scourge's disappearance, they attacked. Depth Charge felt it was too convenient that our enemies were able to attack as swiftly as they did, and so he began accusing Scourge of desertion. He even went so far as to claim our leader was in league with Magmatron, the Pred leader, in order to reestablish a tyrannical rule as it was before the Cyber Planet Wars. Despite Draga's report to the contrary, Depth Charge held fast to his theory, and Draga put up with it for six months in honor of her close friendship with Depth Charge. The final straw came when Depth Charge flat out called Scourge 'a traitor from the beginning of his reign,' using the Dragon's past history as a tyrant against him. Draga left and hasn't set paw or claw in this base since, but she promised to keep us informed of Predacon activity while pursuing her own mission to locate Scourge and bring him and the others home."

Blurr nodded in understanding of Rattrap's telling of the story. It made a whole lot more sense knowing the reason behind this Draga's rogue status, and Blurr, for one, believed her more than Depth Charge even though he had yet to meet either one of them. Of course, now he was curious as to where the other Maximals stood on the matter. Rattrap was clearly on Depth Charge's side while Airrazor seemed more apt to agree with Draga. Grimlock was much harder to read than the others and just seemed to be a loyal soldier, but Blurr had nearly misinterpreted the mechanical tyrannosaur once before and knew better than to judge his personality by sight. Also according to Rattrap, only two others followed Draga when she left. What did that say? No one believed her? Or, maybe she did not want many to come with her? There was no telling, but with any luck, he would find some answers with the Maximals in this hidden mountain base.

Airrazor then interrupted his thoughts; "That was really only the most recent of our problems," she said.

"What do you mean?" Blurr asked, not quite so interested as he had been taken off guard.

"Airrazor," Rattrap scowled, sounding disturbed by this new subject, "Do we have ta bring dat up now?"

"Well, no," the falcon admitted, "but it's just as important as the rest of the story, don't you think?"

Rattrap pondered that for what seemed like ages as the Autobots glanced silently between the two debating Maximals; "Yeah, well, I guess," the rat surrendered.

"You don't have to tell us, you know," Clocker assured, "especially if it's something too painful to talk about. We don't need to know everything."

"Dat's right: you don't," Rattrap almost sneered, but restrained himself, "However, Airrazor's right. Dinobot's story is just as important."

"Dinobot?" Hotstreak echoed perplexed, "You mean that Predacon raptor who lead that assault on you guys in the clearing?"

"Yeah…but he wasn't always a Predacon. He used ta be one of us, a Maximal, before Magmatron twisted him into the stinkin' Pred he is now. Even dat is a tale in itself, and Depth Charge blames himself for our friend's fate."

Blurr's interest peaked a little; "How so?" he asked.

"Dinobot wasn't the most virtuous of the Maximals," Airrazor said with a soft smile, "but he was the most honorable and commanded the greatest respect of the best of us. He was second-in-command before Grimlock, and Depth Charge had considered many times of letting Dinobot lead the Maximals in this war—of course our raptor's pride and unorthodox tactics kept Depth Charge from fully going through with it. I do wish he were still around, that sneaky lizard."

"Wait a second," Hotstreak stopped her a second, "you're talking about him like he no longer exists. I mean, isn't there some way you could just convince him to come back?"

Rattrap looked away as Airrazor responded: "No. Dinobot—the real Dinobot—was off-lined by Magmatron during a routine scouting operation in Sector Fourteen in the West Jungle about two months before Draga ankled out. Dinobot was on patrol per Depth Charge's orders in Pred territory. Supposedly there was a hostage situation with some civilian bots in the area. Depth Charge insisted it was a trap, but Dinobot's personal code of honor wouldn't allow him to take that chance. Depth Charge couldn't convince the raptor to wait for backup, and when he didn't contact us for three solar cycles, our team was sent to find him."

All three Maximals hung their heads as though giving a moment of silence to their comrade before Rattrap picked up again; "When we got dare, Dinobot was nearly off-line," he nearly choked up, "but he managed to stay around long enough to tell us what happened. The 'hostage' was a blank protoform…he tried to tell us that they were using him as a secondary trap to catch more Maximals, but Magmatron and two others showed up before he could tell us such. We were completely unprepared for such a sneak attack, but if Dinobot hadn't mustered up the last of his strength to shield us, we would have been obliterated! Magmatron was seriously damaged in the attack, so he and his soldiers retreated. Dinobot's spark joined the Matrix shortly afterwards. Upon hearing the tale, Depth Charge performed the funeral and Dinobot's exostructure burned on a pyre. Afterwards, Depth Charge locked himself in his quarters and mourned silently for weeks. He blamed himself, and he blamed Scourge's abandonment."

"That must've been what really set Draga off," Clocker mused.

"In a word," Airrazor confirmed, "yes. Draga was second lieutenant after Dinobot in the new Maximal ranks; she loved Dinobot, but her loyalty was to Scourge first. Depth Charge tried to use her feelings for Dinobot to get her to change her mind about Scourge ever coming back, but after a long grueling argument, she left."

"So," Blurr spoke up, "if Dinobot was off-lined, who was that skeletal raptor in the jungle brawl?"

"Him, twisted clone," Grimlock inputted for the first time in several minutes, "Him, Dinobot II, created by him, Magmatron, using half a spark from him, Rampage. Stripped him, Dinobot, of his honor and now he like puppet on string. Very cunning puppet him is, but blindly following nonetheless. No more about past. It hurt Grimlock's CPU too much to hear."

The silence that followed was like that of a funeral procession, and the Autobots felt rather bad for even asking about the Maximals' problems. The group finally came out of the rocky cavern into a brightly lit area laid out with steel-tiled floors, reinforced iron wall panels, and florescent light structures hanging in a multitude of neatly lined rows across the ceiling. Many computer terminals were embedded in the walls of the Maximal base which seemed to span the entire area of the mountain's foundation. A few of the natural rocky features of the mountain were still visibly protruding through the iron and steel lining, and the entire facility was overgrown with lush, organic plant life. It was supported by artificial solar energy emanating from a few select light fixtures that were mixed amidst the florescent set ups and by a misty sprinkler mechanism that ran at different intervals by use of a programmed timing system. A large pond was set at the center of this indoor jungle, and many organic creatures roamed freely throughout. Aside from the obvious presence of Transformer technology, the mountain headquarters was designed perfectly to make the Maximals feel more at home.

Off to the right of the pond just where the artificial jungle began was erected a stone statue of the original Dinobot, which was a completely different appearance than the bony creature the Autobots had encountered earlier. The statue depicted Dinobot as an organic velociraptor who wielded a spinal cord sword and rotating shield. His helm was samurai-like in design, and the plaque below his likeness was embossed with the inscription: "He Lived a Warrior and Died a Hero." _What a legacy,_ Hotstreak thought.

Just then, a large-framed Maximal approached the new arrivals hastily bearing a look of obvious concern missed with confusion. He was green with brown, leathery armor that suggested he was an organic rhinoceros in his beast mode. He was mostly focused on Cheetor who was badly damaged and still in stasis lock upon Grimlock's back. His confusion was directed at the Autobots' presence, but he kept his priority on his injured comrade.

"Cheetor!" he exclaimed with a soft baritone voice, "Grimlock, what happened out there?"

"Predacon ambush," Airrazor beat Grimlock to the answer as she helped the newcomer get Cheetor into a recharge unit.

The rhinoceros examined Cheetor thoroughly; "He's in bad shape," he said almost sadly, "I'm going to need some help with the repairs."

"I'm on it!"

"I'm comin', too," Rattrap insisted.

Both Airrazor and Rattrap followed behind the larger bot, pushing the hovering gurney along, while the rest of the group, following Grimlock, continued with their own quest.

"Who was that?" Clocker inquired.

"Him, Rhinox," Grimlock answered, "him, medical technician and chief science officer, but that not important right now."

Grimlock stopped everyone at the edge of the crystal-clear pond and pointed down into the water. The Autobots looked into its depths and saw that the pond actually exited from a wide tunnel and into the mountain spring that emptied into the broad lake that cut through the valley just outside. From the tunnel opening, the Autobots saw, emerged a flat, blue, fish-like beast with a long, barbed tail, wing-like fins, and yellow eyes set at either side of its wide, compressed face. The organic manta ray floated up to the top of the pond, transforming to robot mode as he entered shallow ground and broke through the surface of the water. He did not even take the time to glance at the Autobots accompanying Grimlock as he directly approached his lieutenant. That was enough to drop what little respect Blurr was reserving for the Maximals' leader-apparent. For whatever reason, it was obvious that Depth Charge was not going to show the same hospitality as Grimlock and the others had shown.

"Grimlock," Depth Charge spoke with an almost unbearable dark tone in his voice, the sound of someone who felt he had been betrayed many times but was trying to hide behind a façade of indifference to any past situation, "Was your mission successful?"

Grimlock transformed to robot mode and saluted his commander—with a respect that even Grimlock suddenly seemed to feel was misplaced but appropriate—before reporting the details of his failed mission. The Autobots waited patiently for him to finish, silently studying Depth Charge, the one these Maximals looked to for leadership despite his overbearingly depressive demeanor. Blurr had already determined that they would not easily gain Depth Charge's trust as the beast's deliberate ignorance of their presence showed. Hotstreak also noted this Maximal's poor attitude. Particularly to him, this bot appeared to be rather arrogant, possibly a little self-righteous considering the tale Rattrap had told them.

Depth Charge's facial features were molded in a deep scowl, his optics ridges contorting downwards no matter what Grimlock said to him. His chest late, which was where the face of his manta ray form had folded down and over his broad frame, rose and fell in calm, controlled breaths. When Grimlock finally came to the part of his story involving the Autobots, Depth Charge finally honored Blurr with a single, fleeting glance, and at the moment Grimlock concluded his report, the fish gave his full attention to the three strangers, his face seeming to twist even more with harsh discontent.

"I appreciate your assistance," he said less-than appreciatively, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave this world. We're in the middle of a war, in case you haven't noticed, and I don't care much—nor have the time to—entertain the whims of off-world visitors."

"Now just wait a slaggin' nano!" Hotstreak exclaimed, rather irked at Depth Charge's lack of common courtesy, but Blurr quickly raised a hand to signal for the younger bot to hold off the verbal assault.

Blurr cleared his resonator and addressed Depth Charge; "You're welcome," he said, mimicking the Maximal leader's tone, "but we didn't come here to sight-see or to be entertained. We're here to find—"

"I _know_ what you're here for, off-worlder," the fish snapped back hastily, taking umbrage at Blurr's mockery, "That saurian of a leader and his two cronies abandoned us almost two stellar cycles ago, betraying us to our enemies, the Predacons. You're wasting your time and mine if you think I'm going to stop what I'm doing to help you find those traitors."

"You don't have any solid evidence to your claims, Depth Charge. Whatever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"

Depth Charge turned his back to company and with an annoyed grunt waved his hand dismissively; "I have all I need," he growled, "There are no innocents in war, Autobots, you should know that. I believe you know the way out. Grimlock, reassemble your team for a second run at the communications bunker."

As Depth Charge continued to give his orders to Grimlock, Blurr motioned for his own team to head for the exit.

"I can't believe that guy," Hotstreak said, "his 'thank you' wasn't worth axel grease on a race track!"

"I know what you mean," Clocker agreed, "I have half a mind to look the other way the next time they need help."

"Cool it, Autobots," Blurr ordered solemnly, "that's not our style. We won't interfere with their missions again, but we won't stoop to Depth Charge's level and deny them any requested assistance. Besides, we didn't come here to fight a war. We need to find more clues as to Scourge's disappearance, and we can't do that if we spend our time arguing with the beasts. Let's go."

They said no more as they continued for the cavern, but before they could walk out, the Autobots were approached by the bot Grimlock had identified as Rhinox. He had the look of concern mixed with despair in his red-tinted optic as though he were expecting a negative reaction to his unspoken purpose for his approaching them.

"I take it your visit with Depth Charge was a less than productive one," he observed almost jokingly.

"To say the least," Blurr responded with a nod, politely shaking Rhinox's outstretched servo.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but that's been his _modus operandi_ as of late. I mean, he's always been rough around the edges and hard to deal with, but this bitterness and lack of trust only manifested after we lost Dinobot and then more so when Draga left. Don't worry, though; he'll come around eventually."

"I hope so, for you and your comrades' benefit if no other. Speaking of which, how's your spotted friend fairing?"

"Mmm, not so good, I'm afraid," Rhinox shook his head in dismay, "he's lost a good portion of his memory and personality programming to Scorponok's interface. I can repair the damages to his exostructure and possibly to his CPU, but his intelligence won't even match wits with a mining drone. Considering his embedded Maximal programming as a fighter, he'd become a danger to himself and everyone around him; we'd have to keep him in stasis lock for an indefinite amount of time."

"That's too bad," Blurr said sincerely, "I've only heard good things about the kid, and from what little I saw in the jungle, he had done quite a job at protecting that information he had acquired."

"He's one of the best scouts we have, servos down, and I'd really hate to give up on such a promising Maximal soldier."

Blurr could tell that Rhinox was beating around the bush about what he really wanted to ask of the visiting Autobots; "I suppose you have something in mind for helping him, then," he observed with a sly sparkle in his optics, "perhaps something we can be of assistance with?"

"I'll admit I was afraid to ask," Rhinox admitted boldly yet sheepishly, "but Airrazor and Rattrap were telling me that your young friend there had cut off Scorponok's tail without much effort shortly after the Pred disabled Cheetor."

Hotstreak gave a modest shrug of his shoulder joints from the recognition. Of course, he disagreed with the "not much effort" part, especially since his personal combat training was limited to the aspects of racing. It was sheer luck anyway, he knew. He was not even trying to hit the mechanical arachnid; it was the sword, energized by the All Spark that actually did the job. The Maximals would not have known that, however, and it was still too early to explain that to them just yet.

"At any rate," Rhinox continued without acknowledging Hotstreak's modesty, "Scorponok wouldn't have had enough time to store all that data into his own core in the heat of battle. I can restore all of Cheetor's primary programming if you can just bring me that tail—or at least the data storage interface module off the tip of the tail. That action alone might earn at least some gratitude from Depth Charge upon your return."

"With all due respect," Blurr said intrepidly, "Depth Charge's gratitude is hardly an incentive to lend a hand, but we are Autobots. That means we serve the common good with or without the thought of reward. Don't worry, Rhinox, we'll do this for you and for Cheetor."

Rhinox smiled gratefully as the three Autobots left the Maximal's hidden mountain base. Blurr knew it would not be difficult to retrace their steps back to the clearing where the battle had taken place, but he also realized that if Rhinox knew about the importance of Scorponok's severed tail, then the Predacons would no doubt also have that invaluable knowledge. That meant the enemy would most definitely be heading back to the sight as well. _Fraggin' perfect, _Blurr thought sarcastically, _and here I thought this mission was going to be difficult!_

Once the Autobots left, Rhinox returned to Cheetor's bedside where Airrazor and Rattrap were waiting for medic gave the two smaller beast bots a stern and meaningful look.

"Not a word of this to Depth Charge," he whispered then returned to his work.

The Predacons

On the opposite end of the jungle, just a few hours' trek from the recently burglarized communications bunker, stood the Predacon base. It was not a natural structure but an artificial building assembled in the lushest portion of the wood. Thick vines wrapped around the domed, black iron base, and moss grew out of the crevasses and cracks of the twisted and poorly welded panels that made up the frame. A large, set of curved double-doors—as badly constructed as the rest of the compound—creaked and groaned loudly as they slid open to allow Dinobot and the two squads of recently defeated Predacon warriors to enter.

"Waspinator," Dinobot addressed the large yellow-jacket that hovered at the end of the rank, "get Scorponok to the CR chamber."

"Why _Wazzpinator_ have to do all the work?" the insect complained in a high-pitched buzzing voice, "It not enough _Wazzpinator_ have to cover you sorry _ssskid_-plate, but now you want _Wazzpinator_ to be taxi for scorpion-bot?"

Dinobot did not offer a response, but rather he suddenly raised a clawed foot into the air and violently pinned Waspinator to the floor; "Any other objections?" he asked nonchalantly.

"_Objectionzz_?" Waspinator repeated with an innocent and nervous chuckle, "No, no, _Wazzpinator_ not object…_juzzt_ big _mizzunderstanding_. _Wazzpinator_ go help Scorponok now."

Satisfied, Dinobot allowed Waspinator up, but he glared coldly after the insect as he carried out his duties. Dinobot then transformed to robot mode and marched into the main computer room where, at the center of the chamber, stood a black and green organic tyrannosaurus rex. Upon seeing his first lieutenant, the Predacon leader Magmatron transformed to robot mode so as to give his full and undivided attention to Dinobot.

As stated before, Magmatron was a black and green organic tyrannosaurus rex in beast mode. In robot mode, the massive predator stood nearly ten feet tall, his chest plate so broad he could shame the very walls of his base. The upper and lower jaw of his tyrannosaurus mode served as protective shoulder armor in robot mode, and the tail became the sheath for his bayonet weapon that hung off of his left hip joint. His helm was like a cross between the helm of a medieval human knight and that of a Japanese samurai warrior. His optic sensors were green, and they blazed with an insatiable hunger for power that surpassed even the mere conquest of Jungle Planet.

Magmatron stood cross-armed before his subordinate; "I trust your mission was a success?" he asked calmly at first.

"Far be it from me to report failure, Lord Magmatron," Dinobot began with a small hint of hesitation, "but let it be much further for me to speak in only half truths. We were able to stop the Maximals from getting away with the communication command codes, but we were thwarted from destroying them for good."

"That does not please me, Dinobot," Magmatron's voice remained calm, but his anger had become rather obvious, "How was a military troop of twelve bested by a inadequate scout team of four?"

Dinobot hesitated once more, realizing that what had caused their defeat would most likely not be covered by Magmatron's already limited repertoire of forgiveness. How could he explain the details of the situation without sounding like a complete fool? Of course, he knew there was no way around it, so he braced himself for reprimand, hoping that maybe the _explanation of_ the explanation would lesson the punishment he was sure to receive.

"The Maximals were aided by odd-looking mechs—three of them, possibly from off-world," Dinobot revealed in the calmest manner of a soldier as he could muster, "There armor was stronger than most of the metals we used for out base, and their weapons were far superior to ours—though I can't say the same for their fighting prowess. Their leader—_ack_!"

"Dinobot," Magmatron had grabbed his inferior by the neck joint and held him at optic level. Still speaking calmly, he continued, "I grow weary of excuses. Three new warriors shouldn't have been nearly enough reinforcement to turn the tides in battle. _That_ tells me _you_ panicked."

"Never—_ack_—Lord Magmatron!" Dinobot squeaked as his leader slowly crushed his vocabulator, "If you'll just—_ack_—give me—_ack_—a cycle to explain—_ack_!"

Magmatron pondered the request for a moment the released the raptor in annoyance; "One cycle, Dinobot," he growled waving his index finger in Dinobot's face, "Starting now, and it had better be good."

Dinobot rose to his full height slowly, regaining his composure and demeanor as he did; "It's better than 'good,' Lord Magmatron," he assured confidently with a sinister grin, "These three mechs who supported the Maximals bore the same insignias as our _beloved_ Planet Leader Scourge and his entourage that followed him."

"Is that so?" Magmatron's interest peaked, "They're probably ambassadors from Cybertron, no doubt, wondering why their 'allies' haven't been in contact for so long. How very intriguing."

"Cybertron?" Dinobot echoed with confusion, "What's Cybertron?"

"Ah, yes, I forget; Scourge's tale is before your time. I'll explain it at a later time. For now, tell me more about out Autobot _friends_."

Dinobot obediently retold the events of the jungle battle without giving so much as a second thought to the mentioning of Cybertron.

The story behind the Predacon Dinobot is a long, sad tale, and though he personally did not remember it, Magmatron knew it as though he had written it himself. Originally as Maximal under the leadership of Depth Charge, Dinobot was a coveted warrior in Magmatron's eyes. He would have made the perfect Predacon in his first existence were it not for his deplorable sense of honor and the love of a femme. Dinobot had gone out on call in response to a hostage situation in Predacon territory against his commander's better judgment, the majority of the Maximals believing it was a trap. That proved too true when the "hostages" turned out to be nothing more than piles of scraps and spare parts. Dinobot was badly damaged in the following Predacon ambush but only enough to incapacitate him. Thus _he_ became a trap for his fellow Maximals, but when a small scouting party had come to get him, he sacrificed himself to give the outnumbered Maximals time to acquire backup. It was considered the noblest act of valor by both Maximal and Predacon alike, and for seven solar cycles a planet-wide truce was put into effect in the fallen warrior's honor. This solitary act of compassion was what set the Predacons in a league far higher than the far more numerous Decepticons that the rest of the known galaxy was familiar with.

However, such chivalry could not last amidst even "noble" Predacons—if such terms could be used for them—as Magmatron set into motion his new plan to strike down his Maximal adversaries. He had acquired a piece of Dinobot's armor, which contained bits and pieces of the Maximal warrior's personality program, not to mention his energy signature—which worked a lot like the unique DNA in organics. Using that bit of armor and a blank protoform unit, Magmatron began work on reviving Dinobot in his own image. Unfortunately, Dinobot's spark had already bonded with the Matrix, and there was no way to bring it back. Therefore, Magmatron took half a spark from one of his strongest warriors—Rampage, a maniacal and miserable immortal Predacon—and used it to bring the new Dinobot life. Then, a second misfortune befell Magmatron during the experiment in that there was not enough data in the miniscule sliver of Dinobot's armor to fully reconstruct his exostructure. So, the Predacon leader—at the suggestion of his scientist Tarantulas—used the fossilized bones of an organic velociraptor to male up for the gaps in Dinobot's energy signature and exostructure. The combination also resulted in the creation of the very first Transmetal Beast Transformer, as Dinobot emerged as a steel-alloy, bone-ivory skeleton of his former self with a few extra tricks built in.


	14. Chapter 13: The Unwelcoming Committee

**Chapter Thirteen:  
The Unwelcoming Committee**

Jungle Planet shimmered like a glass, jade jewel in the light of its massive solar sphere. Had it not been for the danger he remembered from his vision, Hotstreak would have been lost in awe of this sight.

The small convoy had nearly completed the day and a half journey over the Space Bridge with only a couple of hours left to go. Right about now, the Planet Leaders would be passing over Gigantion, and Blurr wondered any contact had been made yet. He tried to assert communiqués with Towline, but it seemed that the denizens of Jungle Planet had jammed all off-world comlinks as well as severing their own communications.

"Well, Autobots," he spoke up just moments from landing, "things are a bit worse than we thought. Seems like the Beast bots have jammed all com frequencies up to four thousand clicks out from and around their planet; until we can find someone to reconnect the lines, we'll be on our own."

"You can't be fraggin' serious!" Clocker complained, "We should've brought more bots with us. If the Beasts are _all_ hostile, the three of us won't even last a nano!"

"Don't blow a gasket, Clocks," Hotstreak laughed, "Towline's probably figured it out already and is taking action as we speak."

"I hope so," Blurr said cautiously, sharing some of Clocker's doubt, "but we can't worry about that right now. Transform and prepare for one incredibly rough landing!"

Hotstreak and Clocker followed Blurr's lead and transformed to robot mode. As they did, the Space Bridge suddenly began to shake and sloped at an unnatural angle. The path became too steep for the bots to maintain the necessary friction to keep their balance!

"By the Pit!" Clocker exclaimed as he began sliding down the bridge rapidly, "What the slag is goin' on?"

"Whoa!" Hotstreak shouted as he, too, started going down, "I thought Towline said we wouldn't lose stability!"

"He said we _might not_," Blurr corrected, assessing the situation and searching for a solution, "we can't blame him, and once again, we can't worry about that! Right now we need to concentrate on turning this dangerous fall in to a long, controlled jump. On my signal, go for the exit portal! Ready? Jump!"

The Transformers pushed themselves off the collapsing Space Bridge and literally dove through the portal into Jungle Planet's open sky. The mighty wind of this world knocked them off their original landing course, but they each managed to turn themselves around in midair so that their feet pointed downwards allowing them to gain control of their fall and land as safely as possible on a soft patch of ground several miles south of Jungle Planet's Space Bridge terminal platform.

"Anyone damaged?" Blurr asked once they were all on solid—or at least semi-solid—ground.

"I'm fine," Hotstreak answered first after running an internal systems check.

"I'm acceptably functional," Clocker said, "nothing too major, but I think I busted a piston pump in my knee joint."

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah, but it'll be very noisy."

"We'll deal. Let's find someone willing to tell us what's going on around here."

The Autobots took in their environs in order to determine the best direction to take, but they did not even get one step forward before they found themselves surrounded by ferocious laser fire!

"What the—? Take cover!" Blurr ordered.

His team quickly ducked behind the trees and large boulders, prepared to defend themselves from this sudden, unwarranted attack. Blurr chanced a peek from his cover, noting that the direction of the blasts never shifted to his team. The red and green beams streaked back and forth between two specific points of origin. _Too precise to be attacking us,_ Blurr thought tactically.

"Why are they firing at us?!" Hotstreak asked, breaking Blurr's thoughts.

"They're not," Blurr answered, "at least, not deliberately. It seems we've stepped into a battle that must have been going on before we even got here! I can't see either side of the battle, so lay low until this clears up!"

"Yes, sir!" Hotstreak and Clocker acknowledged in unison.

The Autobots lowered themselves all the way to the ground until they were lying on their chest plates and observed what little bit of the battle they could see. Intense roaring, snarling, and hissing all but overpowered the deafening shrieks of blaster bolts, and it was clear that the Autobots had indeed landed in one of Jungle Planet's many new battle grounds. Then suddenly, the firing ceases, and strange voices could now be heard from within the woods.

"Tarantulas, they're retreating!" a wheezing voice reported loudly.

"Keep after them, Sidewinder!" another voice, mid-high pitched and cackling—probably the one called Tarantulas—responded, "Magamatron's orders were to eliminate _any_ Maximals we come across!"

Seconds later, a large group of seven predator-like beasts emerged from their hiding place. The one up front was a black, gold, and purple transmetal tarantula spider, whose designation _had_ to be Tarantulas—what else? To his right was a giant, organic, gold king cobra; clearly Sidewinder. The ones that followed were a red, organic pterosaur, a black, blue, and silver transmetal great horned owl, an orange organic sand crab, and taking up the rear were a silver mechanical scorpion and a black and purple organic black widow spider. As the group charged passed, Blurr turned his attention to his team.

"Well," he said, "we know who the hostiles are. Let's move; we may have to cut in on this little dance."

Staying within the cover of the trees, Blurr lead his team forward, trailing after Tarantulas' group from scouting distance. However, the Autobots did not want to be behind the enemy only to arrive too late to keep them from damaging anyone. Inevitably, the Velocitronians picked up their pace and managed to get ahead of the enemy beasts without being detected. When they reached the end of the trail—which opened up into a great clearing—the Autobots saw that friendlies had been cut off and ambushed from the other direction by a different team of hostiles!

"No choice, Maximals," a transmetal rat with a New Jersey accent spoke up, "we've got to fight back! This recon mission's just become a struggle for survival!"

"Me, Grimlock, agree," said a mechanical tyrannosaurus rex, "Me, Grimlock think it time to bash metal!"

"But Rattrap!" a femme, transmetal peregrine falcon said with concern, "Cheetor was badly damaged by the Predacons' first attack! We can't protect him _and _fight them off; they'll have us outnumbered four to one!"

"If you got a better plan, Airrazor, then tell us, otherwise I suggest you shake those tail feathers and take a defensive position around Cheetor!"

The three functioning beasts of the small group of four circled their fallen comrade—a yellow furred organic cheetah—and transformed to robot mode aiming their weapons in the directions from where their adversaries were coming. But then, all fire suddenly ceased around the Maximals—the deathly calm before the massacring storm. Blurr and the Autobots watched in unbridled anticipation and impatience as they waited for the Predacons' imminent attack in order to jump in. If they intervened too soon, the Maximals might also see _them_ as the enemy.

"Me, Grimlock not like this," the tyrannosaur whispered, "it too quiet."

Then as if on cue, Tarantulas and his team emerged from hiding; "Well, Maximals," he snickered sinisterly, "then allow us to turn up the decibels! Ha, ha, ha! Predacons…attack!"

The Predacons opened fire once more as the other group—lead by a skeletal, transmetal Velociraptor and followed by a blue and gold transmetal scorpion/cobra fuzor, a giant organic fire ant, a giant organic yellow jacket, and a black and gold organic goliath bird-eating spider—also surfaced from hiding opposite of Tarantulas' team. Together, the Predacons totaled twelve, definitely more than the already half-damaged team of Maximals. Finally, Hotstreak could take no more.

"Blurr, we have to move in now!" the young mech begged, "They're going to get slaughtered out there!"

"Agreed!" Blurr concurred without a second thought, "Autobots: roll out!"

Blurr, Hotstreak, and Clocker leapt out from the cover of the jungle and took positions filling the gaps between the three Maximals that were still standing. Rattrap and Airrazor took quick glances at the Autobots asserting that they were there to help, but Grimlock did not appreciate the intrusion.

"Me, Grimlock not know you," he grumbled, "me think you Predacon spy!"

"Can it, Grimlock!" Rattrap commanded in irritation, "You'll have time to be suspicious later; right now, use that energy to push the Preds back!"

That was a bit of relief for the Autobots as they focused their weapons in the directions from which the Predacons attacked. Even with their support, the Maximals still found themselves on the losing side of the fight.

"They _still_ outnumber us!" Airrazor screamed above the laser fire, "We can't hold out much longer!"

"Me, Grimlock know that already, but me, Grimlock not go down without fight! Raaawwr!!"

Grimlock transformed to beast mode and charged Tarantulas and his team, spewing fire out from within his structure. Blurr acted on this.

"Clocker, cover him!" he ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Clocker obeyed as he redirected his fire.

"Hey, new guys!" Rattrap shouted over his shoulder, "Don't waste power covering the lizard! He can handle _that_ alone! Concentrate on Dinobot; _he's_ the brains behind the attack! Take him down, and the rest will fall!"

Hotstreak and Blurr turned attention to the transmetal Velociraptor identified as Dinobot, but Clocker kept providing cover for Grimlock. If this Dinobot were truly the tactician of the battle, hen he would be _expecting_ the Maximals to focus on him in order for Tarantulas to gain the advantage from behind. _The rat is a fool if he couldn't see that obvious trap,_ Blurr thought, _and the T-Rex just charged in blindly and arrogance…no way he can take out that whole squad alone with that mindset._ Therefore, Clocker was ordered to stay on Grimlock. However, it truly _did_ prove unnecessary as that group of Predacons was not prepared for the tyrannosaur's sudden rampage; they were easily trampled under foot—perhaps _too_ easily. Seeing the other team practically vanquished, Dinobot pulled back into the woods.

"Predacons!" Dinobot called out, "retreat!"

"Told ya, stranger!" Rattrap cheered, "Grim's better than any bulldozer in the universe!"

Clocker had gone up to check out Grimlock's handiwork, but he was not as enthusiastic as Rattrap was; "Hey, Blurr!" he called out, "How many beasts did we count in this group?"

"Seven," was the answer, "Why?"

"There's only five. Two are missing!"

"Me, Grimlock say you need optics repaired," Grimlock sneered, "Me not see seven when me come this way!"

"If Grimlock didn't see 'em," Rattrap defended his buddy quickly, "then they weren't there, stranger."

"Hold on a nano!" Hotstreak interjected, "Uh, Rattrap, right? Look, we realize our first impressions don't exactly warrant immediate trust, but we're telling you the truth. There were two others: a scorpion and a black widow spider."

"Well, if that's all," Rattrap spoke with contempt, "then we have nothing to worry about. The black widow probably ran away like the coward she is. It's just like that she-spider to turn tail in a battle."

Airrazor did not seem as confident as her rodent friend; "Yeah, that's like _her_," she agreed with emphasis, "but _not_ like Scorponok."

The two beasts looked at each other suddenly and shouted in unison: "Cheetor!"

Everyone turned around to see where the damaged cat bot was laying just as a rumbling in the ground echoed throughout the jungle. Both Maximal and Autobot alike made a mad dash for Cheetor to get him out of the way, but they were not fast enough. Scorponok burst through the ground firing rapid projectiles at them from the turrets that made up his scorpion claws. Then Dinobot and his team reemerged! The retreat had been a _diversion to cover a diversion_! Scorponok's attack allowed Dinobot to reposition his squad—and a rejuvenated Tarantulas with all but one of his teammates—in a circled perimeter around the Maximals and Autobots; they were trapped good! Scorponok stood in the middle of the circle in between Cheetor and his allies steadily aiming his guns at them, daring them to come closer.

"I don't think this plan was very well thought through," Clocker whispered to Blurr.

"Really?" Blurr asked with false shock, "I didn't even know there _was_ a plan."

"Silence, fools!" Dinobot shouted, "Scorponok, retrieve the stolen data from the cat, now!"

Scorponok, obeying Dinobot's command, began walking backwards slowly, keeping his weapons locked on target and twitching ever so slightly at any movement from the Maximals and their odd-looking allies. A sharp, needle-like prong extended from the tip of the scorpion's tail. It appeared to be an input device, and it proved to be such when Scorponok inserted it into an exposed output unit at the base of Cheetor's neck joint. After a few seconds, Scorponok let out a string of twisted mechanical beeps and whirs indicating that he had retrieved the data from the cheetah's mainframe and even erased it.

"Excellent, Scorponok," Dinobot praised him halfheartedly, "now get back in ranks!"

Scorponok violently burrowed back underground, and presumably got back in line—he never resurfaced, so it was difficult to know for sure. The Autobots glanced down at the fallen Maximal, and then Blurr did his best to speak to Hotstreak and Clocker without being heard by Dinobot or any other Predacon.

"They aren't going to let us go this easily," he whispered, "Their teamwork is far better than any battalion of Decepticons I ever fought against. I'd go so far as to say it may be better than most Autobot teams I've been part of; this makes them more unpredictable and twice as dangerous.

"Our armor can take more damage than the Beasts' can, so be prepared to go servo-to-servo with the enemy."

The other two mechs quietly agreed, but their moment came much quicker than even Blurr could have anticipated as Dinobot gave the termination order almost immediately after Blurr had made his own. Blurr quickly jumped in front or Airrazor to defend her from fire as Hotstreak covered the wounded Cheetor and Clocker the short-statured Rattrap. Grimlock's hide was mechanical rather than organic like his compatriots, so the Autobots left him to his business while they took direct fire from the Predacons. To Hotstreak, the raining laser fire was equivalent to a Level Four Racer Combat Training Course back on Velocitron, although the stings did not feel as sharp as the drones' he had battled against then. He knew, of course, that that was because of his Subaru® armor, which was twice as strong as his previous Chrysler® armor had been. His higher tolerance allowed him to divide his attention between monitoring his personal shield, protecting Cheetor, and searching for any possible ambush attempts from wayward Predacons. Then suddenly, the edges of his vision began to blur just as it had done in his vision of Jungle Planet. He doubted his armor strength had anything to do with that. _What do you want me to see?_ the young mech thought to himself but spoke to the All Spark power he knew was within him. Even as the thought passed, he saw the ground rising and falling as though a massive mecha-worm were tunneling heading right for him; Scorponok was coming back to finish the cat-bot off! Hotstreak did not have time to think up a plan as his normal sight returned only to see the scorpion's tail rise from the ground like a Sharkticon's dorsal fin from water, the sharp prong poised to stab through anything in his path. Hotstreak moved to grab Blade Stryke's sword from the compartment on his back plate, but as he raised his hand to get it, he sound his own mystical weapon, his gift from the All Spark, glowing in full ferocity against its master's encroaching enemy. Hotstreak did not stop to ponder its sudden, coincidental appearance as he made a crescent slash at the space between him and Scorponok. The blade never made contact with anything solid—the intent had been to scare the metal arachnid—but its wielder was surprised to see that a great crevice was left in the wake of the weapon's sweep of raw energy. Not only that, but it seared off half of Scorponok's tail! The Predacon squealed in pain as he reversed course and ran away. Hotstreak quickly grabbed the severed tail before it could hit the ground. It wriggled violently though it was detached from its body, and Hotstreak wrestled with the appendage before it finally lost power and went limp in the Autobot's grip. He hurled it into the midst of the battle, which caused the other Predacons to cease fire and stare in fear and confusion at the mech who separated it from its unit. Tarantulas particularly looked most curiously at the sword of pure energy this strange visitor carried.

"Ah, Dinobot," the spider chuckled nervously, "perhaps out current situation calls for an immediate, tactical withdraw?"

Dinobot was quick to agree without question as he called the troops off and fell back into the woods in a hasty retreat. The Predacons transformed to beast mode and followed their commander back to their base.

"We must report these _visitors_ to Magmatron," Dinobot was saying to Tarantulas, "Particularly, the one who cut off Scorponok's tail could easily turn this was against the Predacon cause!"

"I agree," Tarantulas responded with a hint of intrigue in his vocals, "and I should very much like to get a closer look at that marvelous weapon that boy of a mech was holding."

"Black Arachnia can accommodate that, I'm sure. Where is she?"

"The witch fled at the beginning of the battle as usual."

"Excellent. Contact her; tell her to abort her mission to the dragon's lair and track these off-worlders. Have her collect intelligence on them and, if at all possible, use her ability to download the boy's weapon."

Tarantulas snickered sinisterly as he broke off from the group and scurried off into the jungle and out of sight.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Maximals—though thankful for the assistance—turned their mistrust on the odd-looking mechs that had jumped into the recent fray.

"I don't know where you guys came from," Rattrap said bitterly, "but I think it's high time you am-scray while the am-scrayin's good!"

"What he's trying to say," Airrazor interjected quickly, "is thanks for the help, but we can handle it from here. We're not exactly open for tourism."

The three Autobots exchanged confused glances; "We're not tourists," Clocker tried to explain, "We're old friends of your Planet Leader, Scourge."

"Scourge?!" Airrazor repeated with more excitement now, "You know where he is, then?"

"No," Blurr shook his head disappointedly, "we were hoping someone here could tell us."

Rattrap scoffed at them as he watched Grimlock transform to beast mode and lift a stasis-locked Cheetor onto his back; "I told you not to get your hopes up, bird-lady," he said, "Scourge abandoned us, just like the boss fish said…besides, we can't believe what these _weirdoes _say!"

"Hey!" Hotstreak pushed his way to the front, "these _weirdoes_ just saved your ungrateful skid plates, mouse!"

"Well, whaddaya want, eh? A medal? Ha! Get lost, kid!"

Hotstreak advanced on Rattrap, but Blurr placed his servo on the younger mech's shoulder joint to stop him. The last thing the Autobots needed was to frighten off the only potential allies they had on the planet.

"This doesn't need to turn into a fight," the Autobot leader said, "we just need to speak to the mech called Depth Charge. We have it on…'good faith'…that he's the beast currently in charge."

His attempt to avoid the subject of Hotstreak's vision was a considerably weak one, but it seemed to work just fine on this small team of Maximals. Rattrap maintained his aggressive façade, however, and continued to deny aid to Blurr and his group. Through it all, Blurr took considerable notice in the change in the atmosphere. Airrazor's embarrassment whenever Rattrap spoke became more apparent—Blurr had noticed it before, but now that the battle was over, it showed more prominently. Rattrap himself had originally been quick to accept the Autobots' help, but now he was allowing his personal suspicions surface boldly. Then there was Grimlock who, at the beginning, accused the Autobots of being Predacon spies. He was less vocal now as he observed the interaction between his rodent friend and the off-world guests. He seemed much more patient than he originally appeared, and the air that flowed around him resonated a kind of authority that just screamed out to the universe.

"Depth Charge don't waste his time on outlanders," Rattrap spat one last time, "so make like a bee-droid and buzz off!"

Blurr allowed a smile to spread across his metal face; "Sorry, mouse," he said, "but I believe such decisions can only be made by your team commander…right, Grimlock?"

Rattrap and Airrazor were taken by complete surprise! _How did he know?_ Rattrap asked himself, _We were so careful to keep that information concealed!_ Grimlock did not share his comrades' shock, Blurr could tell, but he decided to humor them anyway.

"How you, stranger, know that me, Grimlock, lead?" he asked with obvious amusement.

"Simple, really," Blurr explained, "Rattrap is too much of a hothead to lead a group like this, and Airrazor seemed humiliated rather than supportive every time the rat spoke. A good leader maintains a clear mind at all times. I'll admit the seemingly blind solo charge into the depths of that Predacon group had me second guessing for a moment until I realized you were actually moving to higher ground to assess the situation and locate any possible escape route for your outnumbered and injured team."

Grimlock smiled a toothy grin in restrained pride at the recognition, but Rattrap only scowled with impatience.

"Big deal!" the small mech said, "It's not like that suddenly makes us buddies or nuttin'!"

"Grimlock?" Blurr reiterated with a slight tilt of his head.

"Me, Grimlock, say," the tyrannosaur said after a moment, "we take new friends to leader, Depth Charge."

"What?!" Rattrap wailed, "For bootin' up cold, Grim! They really _could_ be Pred spies!"

"They don't look much like Predacons to me," Airrazor observed, "and with long-range communications knocked out, the Preds wouldn't have been able to call for off-world aid."

"I don't trust 'em!"

"Me, Grimlock, gave order!" Grimlock bellowed, "You, Rattrap, will follow!"

An awkward silence followed while Grimlock and Rattrap stared each other down. However, it did not take long for Rattrap to concede to the dinosaur's command as he scoffed and transformed to beast mode. Airrazor also transformed. The Autobots observed their surroundings, realizing that the planet's terrain would be too rough for their vehicle modes. Blurr laid mention to this to Grimlock.

"That okay," the beast said, "Me, Grimlock, take you long way through meadow. Soon you, new friends, meet him, Depth Charge, and him thank you properly for helping us."

They tagged along behind Grimlock to the edge of the jungle as it opened up into a wide open plain. The Autobots then transformed to their vehicle modes and, resisting the urge to race across the land, traveled in a protective perimeter around the Maximals heading due west along the tree line.

In the darkness of the forest, Road Rage watched his target Hotstreak carefully. The mutant Transformer had landed clear on the other side of the jungle when the Space Bridge caved, but luckily for him, the sounds of battle lead him straight to his quarry. _Unfortunately_, however, the Autobots had new allies now; this was no time to even contemplate an attack.

"I need to wait until he's alone," Road Rage plotted with the air, "only then could I gain the advantage and destroy him without interference!"

He sunk back into the shadows and continued his silent stalk of his prey.


	15. Chapter 14: Depth Charge

**Chapter Fourteen:  
Depth Charge**

The motley crew of robots came to and stopped at an enormous mountain set at the centermost area of the valley. There were no visible cave openings, so Hotstreak began to wonder if Grimlock had gotten himself lost on his own planet. However, as if reading the young mech's mind, Grimlock then transformed to robot mode and stepped straight through the mountain wall! The rippling effect caused by this unforeseen action gave an instant recognition to the mechanism.

"It's a hologram!" Hotstreak exclaimed, "But…couldn't this be easily detected by any passing enemies?"

Grimlock poked his head back out of the mountain; "Me, Grimlock say it not time for questions," he said, "him, Depthcharge, waiting."

Without further conversation, both Maximals and Autobots transformed to robot mode and walled through the rock projection into a cooled, dimly lit cave that appeared to slope down into the depths of the planet. Once everyone was safely inside, they heard a deep, metallic boom resonate from behind them. The Autobots turned to see that a massive iron door—much larger than the cave opening itself—had closed up behind them.

"Predacons not detect hologram," Grimlock spoke up suddenly, answering Hotstreak's ten-minute-old question, "because door has real rock bed on outside, and hologram shuts off when door closes."

"Cleaver," Blurr commented quietly then turned his attention to Cheetor and changed the subject, "What exactly was the kid carrying that got your enemies riled up so badly?"

"Codes," Airrazor answered, "Well, partial codes, anyway. Ever since the Predacons sabotaged planet-wide communications, we Maximals have been trying to restore them to gain tactical advantage in this war. One of our rouge operatives tipped us off to the facility at the far end of the East Jungle containing the fourth of ten encrypted sets of codes to reestablish communications."

"Rogue operative?" Blurr echoed skeptically, "You mean like someone who broke away from your team based on conflicting interests? You'd trust someone like that?"

"You're misunderstandin'," Rattrap defended, the hostility no longer resonating in his vocabulator, "Draga didn't desert us; she branched off of us, bearing in mind the exact same goals Depth Charge has of liberating our world of the Predacons. What caused this, however, might count as 'conflictin' interests,' I suppose."

"And what was that?" Clocker asked after a brief silence.

"_That_," Airrazor chimed in, "would be the moment Depth Charge began vocalizing his suspicions about Scourge abandoning us in our hour of need. That was bad enough, but then he began claiming his theories as true which is what inevitably lead to Draga and two others breaking away from Depth Charge's leadership.

"Draga was Scourge's most trusted advisor and battle tactician who moved up quickly in rank when the Predacons first started revealing their presence. Of course, at that time, no separate factions existed, though Scourge and his two captains Snarl and Leobreaker bore the same insignia as you guys do."

"Yes," Blurr confirmed, "Before he was reformatted by the planet as Leobreaker, Overhaul was sent here to obtain Jungle Planet's Cyber Key. There weren't any distinct factions here then, either. After Overhaul's reformatting into Leobreaker, Optimus Prime arrived in hopes of reasoning with Scourge, but Megatron had gotten to him first. Thus, Scourge flew the flag of the Decepticon army, but as time passed he began to see the error of his ways. By the end of the war, the Dragon had become an honorable Autobot warrior."

Rattrap sighed and shook his head in disagreement, but a harsh glance from Airrazor kept him from voicing his opinion. The cavern became steeper as the Transformers made their way down in brief silence. Before long, however, Rattrap was able to gain enough of his composure to pick up where Airrazor had left off.

"Anyway," he said, "Draga claimed to have been present during Scourge's disappearance, except her account was that he had been taken by some other-worldly force. She testified that Scourge was abducted from his own hall while he, Snarl, Leobreaker, and Draga were preparing a battle strategy against the sudden uprising of the Predacons. According to Draga, the entire mountain temple shook as though it'd been hit by a barrage of missiles; then a weird pillar of light materialized out of nowhere, sent an energy surge through all four bots' circuitry, and finally just swallowed Scourge, Leobreaker, and Snarl. Draga herself was found a megacycle later in emergency stasis lock by her own lieutenants Dilophotron and Hyenix and by Depth Charge. Her circuits were almost completely fried.

"Needless to say, once the Preds gained knowledge of Scourge's disappearance, they attacked. Depth Charge felt it was too convenient that our enemies were able to attack as swiftly as they did, and so he began accusing Scourge of desertion. He even went so far as to claim our leader was in league with Magmatron, the Pred leader, in order to reestablish a tyrannical rule as it was before the Cyber Planet Wars. Despite Draga's report to the contrary, Depth Charge held fast to his theory, and Draga put up with it for six months in honor of her close friendship with Depth Charge. The final straw came when Depth Charge flat out called Scourge 'a traitor from the beginning of his reign,' using the Dragon's past history as a tyrant against him. Draga left and hasn't set paw or claw in this base since, but she promised to keep us informed of Predacon activity while pursuing her own mission to locate Scourge and bring him and the others home."

Blurr nodded in understanding of Rattrap's telling of the story. It made a whole lot more sense knowing the reason behind this Draga's rogue status, and Blurr, for one, believed her more than Depth Charge even though he had yet to meet either one of them. Of course, now he was curious as to where the other Maximals stood on the matter. Rattrap was clearly on Depth Charge's side while Airrazor seemed more apt to agree with Draga. Grimlock was much harder to read than the others and just seemed to be a loyal soldier, but Blurr had nearly misinterpreted the mechanical tyrannosaur once before and knew better than to judge his personality by sight. Also according to Rattrap, only two others followed Draga when she left. What did that say? No one believed her? Or, maybe she did not want many to come with her? There was no telling, but with any luck, he would find some answers with the Maximals in this hidden mountain base.

Airrazor then interrupted his thoughts; "That was really only the most recent of our problems," she said.

"What do you mean?" Blurr asked, not quite so interested as he had been taken off guard.

"Airrazor," Rattrap scowled, sounding disturbed by this new subject, "Do we have ta bring dat up now?"

"Well, no," the falcon admitted, "but it's just as important as the rest of the story, don't you think?"

Rattrap pondered that for what seemed like ages as the Autobots glanced silently between the two debating Maximals; "Yeah, well, I guess," the rat surrendered.

"You don't have to tell us, you know," Clocker assured, "especially if it's something too painful to talk about. We don't need to know everything."

"Dat's right: you don't," Rattrap almost sneered, but restrained himself, "However, Airrazor's right. Dinobot's story is just as important."

"Dinobot?" Hotstreak echoed perplexed, "You mean that Predacon raptor who lead that assault on you guys in the clearing?"

"Yeah…but he wasn't always a Predacon. He used ta be one of us, a Maximal, before Magmatron twisted him into the stinkin' Pred he is now. Even dat is a tale in itself, and Depth Charge blames himself for our friend's fate."

Blurr's interest peaked a little; "How so?" he asked.

"Dinobot wasn't the most virtuous of the Maximals," Airrazor said with a soft smile, "but he was the most honorable and commanded the greatest respect of the best of us. He was second-in-command before Grimlock, and Depth Charge had considered many times of letting Dinobot lead the Maximals in this war—of course our raptor's pride and unorthodox tactics kept Depth Charge from fully going through with it. I do wish he were still around, that sneaky lizard."

"Wait a second," Hotstreak stopped her a second, "you're talking about him like he no longer exists. I mean, isn't there some way you could just convince him to come back?"

Rattrap looked away as Airrazor responded: "No. Dinobot—the real Dinobot—was off-lined by Magmatron during a routine scouting operation in Sector Fourteen in the West Jungle about two months before Draga ankled out. Dinobot was on patrol per Depth Charge's orders in Pred territory. Supposedly there was a hostage situation with some civilian bots in the area. Depth Charge insisted it was a trap, but Dinobot's personal code of honor wouldn't allow him to take that chance. Depth Charge couldn't convince the raptor to wait for backup, and when he didn't contact us for three solar cycles, our team was sent to find him."

All three Maximals hung their heads as though giving a moment of silence to their comrade before Rattrap picked up again; "When we got dare, Dinobot was nearly off-line," he nearly choked up, "but he managed to stay around long enough to tell us what happened. The 'hostage' was a blank protoform…he tried to tell us that they were using him as a secondary trap to catch more Maximals, but Magmatron and two others showed up before he could tell us such. We were completely unprepared for such a sneak attack, but if Dinobot hadn't mustered up the last of his strength to shield us, we would have been obliterated! Magmatron was seriously damaged in the attack, so he and his soldiers retreated. Dinobot's spark joined the Matrix shortly afterwards. Upon hearing the tale, Depth Charge performed the funeral and Dinobot's exostructure burned on a pyre. Afterwards, Depth Charge locked himself in his quarters and mourned silently for weeks. He blamed himself, and he blamed Scourge's abandonment."

"That must've been what really set Draga off," Clocker mused.

"In a word," Airrazor confirmed, "yes. Draga was second lieutenant after Dinobot in the new Maximal ranks; she loved Dinobot, but her loyalty was to Scourge first. Depth Charge tried to use her feelings for Dinobot to get her to change her mind about Scourge ever coming back, but after a long grueling argument, she left."

"So," Blurr spoke up, "if Dinobot was off-lined, who was that skeletal raptor in the jungle brawl?"

"Him, twisted clone," Grimlock inputted for the first time in several minutes, "Him, Dinobot II, created by him, Magmatron, using half a spark from him, Rampage. Stripped him, Dinobot, of his honor and now he like puppet on string. Very cunning puppet him is, but blindly following nonetheless. No more about past. It hurt Grimlock's CPU too much to hear."

The silence that followed was like that of a funeral procession, and the Autobots felt rather bad for even asking about the Maximals' problems. The group finally came out of the rocky cavern into a brightly lit area laid out with steel-tiled floors, reinforced iron wall panels, and florescent light structures hanging in a multitude of neatly lined rows across the ceiling. Many computer terminals were embedded in the walls of the Maximal base which seemed to span the entire area of the mountain's foundation. A few of the natural rocky features of the mountain were still visibly protruding through the iron and steel lining, and the entire facility was overgrown with lush, organic plant life. It was supported by artificial solar energy emanating from a few select light fixtures that were mixed amidst the florescent set ups and by a misty sprinkler mechanism that ran at different intervals by use of a programmed timing system. A large pond was set at the center of this indoor jungle, and many organic creatures roamed freely throughout. Aside from the obvious presence of Transformer technology, the mountain headquarters was designed perfectly to make the Maximals feel more at home.

Off to the right of the pond just where the artificial jungle began was erected a stone statue of the original Dinobot, which was a completely different appearance than the bony creature the Autobots had encountered earlier. The statue depicted Dinobot as an organic velociraptor who wielded a spinal cord sword and rotating shield. His helm was samurai-like in design, and the plaque below his likeness was embossed with the inscription: "He Lived a Warrior and Died a Hero." _What a legacy,_ Hotstreak thought.

Just then, a large-framed Maximal approached the new arrivals hastily bearing a look of obvious concern missed with confusion. He was green with brown, leathery armor that suggested he was an organic rhinoceros in his beast mode. He was mostly focused on Cheetor who was badly damaged and still in stasis lock upon Grimlock's back. His confusion was directed at the Autobots' presence, but he kept his priority on his injured comrade.

"Cheetor!" he exclaimed with a soft baritone voice, "Grimlock, what happened out there?"

"Predacon ambush," Airrazor beat Grimlock to the answer as she helped the newcomer get Cheetor into a recharge unit.

The rhinoceros examined Cheetor thoroughly; "He's in bad shape," he said almost sadly, "I'm going to need some help with the repairs."

"I'm on it!"

"I'm comin', too," Rattrap insisted.

Both Airrazor and Rattrap followed behind the larger bot, pushing the hovering gurney along, while the rest of the group, following Grimlock, continued with their own quest.

"Who was that?" Clocker inquired.

"Him, Rhinox," Grimlock answered, "him, medical technician and chief science officer, but that not important right now."

Grimlock stopped everyone at the edge of the crystal-clear pond and pointed down into the water. The Autobots looked into its depths and saw that the pond actually exited from a wide tunnel and into the mountain spring that emptied into the broad lake that cut through the valley just outside. From the tunnel opening, the Autobots saw, emerged a flat, blue, fish-like beast with a long, barbed tail, wing-like fins, and yellow eyes set at either side of its wide, compressed face. The organic manta ray floated up to the top of the pond, transforming to robot mode as he entered shallow ground and broke through the surface of the water. He did not even take the time to glance at the Autobots accompanying Grimlock as he directly approached his lieutenant. That was enough to drop what little respect Blurr was reserving for the Maximals' leader-apparent. For whatever reason, it was obvious that Depth Charge was not going to show the same hospitality as Grimlock and the others had shown.

"Grimlock," Depth Charge spoke with an almost unbearable dark tone in his voice, the sound of someone who felt he had been betrayed many times but was trying to hide behind a façade of indifference to any past situation, "Was your mission successful?"

Grimlock transformed to robot mode and saluted his commander—with a respect that even Grimlock suddenly seemed to feel was misplaced but appropriate—before reporting the details of his failed mission. The Autobots waited patiently for him to finish, silently studying Depth Charge, the one these Maximals looked to for leadership despite his overbearingly depressive demeanor. Blurr had already determined that they would not easily gain Depth Charge's trust as the beast's deliberate ignorance of their presence showed. Hotstreak also noted this Maximal's poor attitude. Particularly to him, this bot appeared to be rather arrogant, possibly a little self-righteous considering the tale Rattrap had told them.

Depth Charge's facial features were molded in a deep scowl, his optics ridges contorting downwards no matter what Grimlock said to him. His chest late, which was where the face of his manta ray form had folded down and over his broad frame, rose and fell in calm, controlled breaths. When Grimlock finally came to the part of his story involving the Autobots, Depth Charge finally honored Blurr with a single, fleeting glance, and at the moment Grimlock concluded his report, the fish gave his full attention to the three strangers, his face seeming to twist even more with harsh discontent.

"I appreciate your assistance," he said less-than appreciatively, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave this world. We're in the middle of a war, in case you haven't noticed, and I don't care much—nor have the time to—entertain the whims of off-world visitors."

"Now just wait a slaggin' nano!" Hotstreak exclaimed, rather irked at Depth Charge's lack of common courtesy, but Blurr quickly raised a hand to signal for the younger bot to hold off the verbal assault.

Blurr cleared his resonator and addressed Depth Charge; "You're welcome," he said, mimicking the Maximal leader's tone, "but we didn't come here to sight-see or to be entertained. We're here to find—"

"I _know_ what you're here for, off-worlder," the fish snapped back hastily, taking umbrage at Blurr's mockery, "That saurian of a leader and his two cronies abandoned us almost two stellar cycles ago, betraying us to our enemies, the Predacons. You're wasting your time and mine if you think I'm going to stop what I'm doing to help you find those traitors."

"You don't have any solid evidence to your claims, Depth Charge. Whatever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"

Depth Charge turned his back to company and with an annoyed grunt waved his hand dismissively; "I have all I need," he growled, "There are no innocents in war, Autobots, you should know that. I believe you know the way out. Grimlock, reassemble your team for a second run at the communications bunker."

As Depth Charge continued to give his orders to Grimlock, Blurr motioned for his own team to head for the exit.

"I can't believe that guy," Hotstreak said, "his 'thank you' wasn't worth axel grease on a race track!"

"I know what you mean," Clocker agreed, "I have half a mind to look the other way the next time they need help."

"Cool it, Autobots," Blurr ordered solemnly, "that's not our style. We won't interfere with their missions again, but we won't stoop to Depth Charge's level and deny them any requested assistance. Besides, we didn't come here to fight a war. We need to find more clues as to Scourge's disappearance, and we can't do that if we spend our time arguing with the beasts. Let's go."

They said no more as they continued for the cavern, but before they could walk out, the Autobots were approached by the bot Grimlock had identified as Rhinox. He had the look of concern mixed with despair in his red-tinted optic as though he were expecting a negative reaction to his unspoken purpose for his approaching them.

"I take it your visit with Depth Charge was a less than productive one," he observed almost jokingly.

"To say the least," Blurr responded with a nod, politely shaking Rhinox's outstretched servo.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but that's been his _modus operandi_ as of late. I mean, he's always been rough around the edges and hard to deal with, but this bitterness and lack of trust only manifested after we lost Dinobot and then more so when Draga left. Don't worry, though; he'll come around eventually."

"I hope so, for you and your comrades' benefit if no other. Speaking of which, how's your spotted friend fairing?"

"Mmm, not so good, I'm afraid," Rhinox shook his head in dismay, "he's lost a good portion of his memory and personality programming to Scorponok's interface. I can repair the damages to his exostructure and possibly to his CPU, but his intelligence won't even match wits with a mining drone. Considering his embedded Maximal programming as a fighter, he'd become a danger to himself and everyone around him; we'd have to keep him in stasis lock for an indefinite amount of time."

"That's too bad," Blurr said sincerely, "I've only heard good things about the kid, and from what little I saw in the jungle, he had done quite a job at protecting that information he had acquired."

"He's one of the best scouts we have, servos down, and I'd really hate to give up on such a promising Maximal soldier."

Blurr could tell that Rhinox was beating around the bush about what he really wanted to ask of the visiting Autobots; "I suppose you have something in mind for helping him, then," he observed with a sly sparkle in his optics, "perhaps something we can be of assistance with?"

"I'll admit I was afraid to ask," Rhinox admitted boldly yet sheepishly, "but Airrazor and Rattrap were telling me that your young friend there had cut off Scorponok's tail without much effort shortly after the Pred disabled Cheetor."

Hotstreak gave a modest shrug of his shoulder joints from the recognition. Of course, he disagreed with the "not much effort" part, especially since his personal combat training was limited to the aspects of racing. It was sheer luck anyway, he knew. He was not even trying to hit the mechanical arachnid; it was the sword, energized by the All Spark that actually did the job. The Maximals would not have known that, however, and it was still too early to explain that to them just yet.

"At any rate," Rhinox continued without acknowledging Hotstreak's modesty, "Scorponok wouldn't have had enough time to store all that data into his own core in the heat of battle. I can restore all of Cheetor's primary programming if you can just bring me that tail—or at least the data storage interface module off the tip of the tail. That action alone might earn at least some gratitude from Depth Charge upon your return."

"With all due respect," Blurr said intrepidly, "Depth Charge's gratitude is hardly an incentive to lend a hand, but we are Autobots. That means we serve the common good with or without the thought of reward. Don't worry, Rhinox, we'll do this for you and for Cheetor."

Rhinox smiled gratefully as the three Autobots left the Maximal's hidden mountain base. Blurr knew it would not be difficult to retrace their steps back to the clearing where the battle had taken place, but he also realized that if Rhinox knew about the importance of Scorponok's severed tail, then the Predacons would no doubt also have that invaluable knowledge. That meant the enemy would most definitely be heading back to the sight as well. _Fraggin' perfect, _Blurr thought sarcastically, _and here I thought this mission was going to be difficult!_

Once the Autobots left, Rhinox returned to Cheetor's bedside where Airrazor and Rattrap were waiting for medic gave the two smaller beast bots a stern and meaningful look.

"Not a word of this to Depth Charge," he whispered then returned to his work.


	16. Chapter 15: The Predacons

Chapter 15:  
The Predacons

On the opposite end of the jungle, just a few hours' trek from the recently burglarized communications bunker, stood the Predacon base. It was not a natural structure but an artificial building assembled in the lushest portion of the wood. Thick vines wrapped around the domed, black iron base, and moss grew out of the crevasses and cracks of the twisted and poorly welded panels that made up the frame. A large, set of curved double-doors—as badly constructed as the rest of the compound—creaked and groaned loudly as they slid open to allow Dinobot and the two squads of recently defeated Predacon warriors to enter.

Inside the base looked much better in construction than the outside. The domed entrance was merely just the cap to the tunnel that led down into the Predacons' underground hovel, and while the first couple of feet were simply patted-out clay, the start of the fifth length and onward was laid out in steel. The end of this tube bubbled out into a vast computer room with one side solely dedicated to surveillance over the great majority of Jungle Planet. The other side had four more tunnels carved out that veined into other parts of the base—most likely personal quarters for the Predacons—and Cryo-Regeneration chambers were lined up neatly against the back wall. Much like in the fashion of their Maximal adversaries, the Predacons liked to keep the inside of their headquarters feeling as natural as the outside except that their idea of nature was in the formation of thick, tropical overgrowth and murky swamps. Therefore while the walls appeared to belong in a civilized war room, the floor and several personal chambers were breeding grounds for the "creepy-crawlies" of the jungle scene. There was even a pond of sorts, but it was as dirty as the floor itself and infested with organic reptiles and amphibians of the less-than-savory nature. Spiders and scorpions made nests in all corners of the structure, centipedes and worms burrowed into and out of the soft ground, snakes hunted for rats and smaller lizards—the kind of pit only a predator could feel comfortable in. At its center stood a rather elaborate throne of dull bronze and steel overgrown with thick vines and the roots of a great oak tree that grew directly above the main room of the Predacon base. Looking up, one could see the roots vein out across the ceiling except for the greater mass of them that hugged the throne.

"Waspinator," Dinobot addressed the large yellow-jacket that hovered at the end of the rank, "get Scorponok to the CR chamber. I must go give a report to Magmatron. He won't be pleased to learn of out failure."

"Why _Wazzpinator_ have to do all the work?" the insect complained in a high-pitched buzzing voice, "It not enough _Wazzpinator_ have to cover your _sssorry_ _ssskid_-plate, but now you want _Wazzpinator_ to be taxi for scorpion-bot?"

Dinobot did not offer a response, but rather he suddenly raised a clawed foot into the air and violently pinned Waspinator to the floor; "Any other objections?" he asked nonchalantly.

"_Objectionzz_?" Waspinator repeated with an innocent and nervous chuckle, "No, no, _Wazzpinator_ not object…_juzzt_ big _mizzunderstanding_. _Wazzpinator_ go help Scorponok now."

Satisfied, Dinobot allowed Waspinator up, but he glared coldly after the insect as he carried out his duties. Dinobot then transformed to robot mode and marched into the main computer room where, at the center of the chamber and beside the large throne, stood a black and green organic tyrannosaurus rex. Upon seeing his first lieutenant, the Predacon leader Magmatron transformed to robot mode so as to give his full and undivided attention to Dinobot.

As stated before, Magmatron was a black and green organic tyrannosaurus rex in beast mode. In robot mode, the massive predator stood nearly ten feet tall, his chest plate so broad he could shame the very walls of his base. The upper and lower jaw of his tyrannosaurus mode served as protective shoulder armor in robot mode, and the tail became the sheath for his bayonet weapon that hung off of his left hip joint. His helm was like a cross between the helm of a medieval human knight and that of a Japanese samurai warrior. His optic sensors were green, and they blazed with an insatiable hunger for power that surpassed even the mere conquest of Jungle Planet.

Magmatron stood cross-armed before his subordinate; "I trust your mission was a success?" he asked calmly at first.

"Far be it from me to report failure, Lord Magmatron," Dinobot began with a small hint of hesitation, "but let it be much further for me to speak in only half truths. We were able to stop the Maximals from getting away with the communication command codes, but we were thwarted from destroying them for good."

"That does not please me, Dinobot," Magmatron's voice remained calm, but his anger had become rather obvious, "How was a military troop of twelve bested by a inadequate scout team of four?"

Dinobot hesitated once more, realizing that what had caused their defeat would most likely not be covered by Magmatron's already limited repertoire of forgiveness. How could he explain the details of the situation without sounding like a complete fool? Of course, he knew there was no way around it, so he braced himself for reprimand, hoping that maybe the _explanation of_ the explanation would lesson the punishment he was sure to receive.

"The Maximals were aided by odd-looking mechs—three of them, possibly from off-world," Dinobot revealed in the calmest manner of a soldier as he could muster, "Their armor was stronger than most of the metals we used for our base, and their weapons were far superior to ours—though I can't say the same for their fighting prowess. Their leader—_ack_!"

"Dinobot," Magmatron had grabbed his inferior by the neck joint and held him at optic level. Still speaking calmly, he continued, "I grow weary of excuses. Three new warriors shouldn't have been nearly enough reinforcement to turn the tides in battle. _That_ tells me _you_ panicked."

"Never—_ack_—Lord Magmatron!" Dinobot squeaked as his leader slowly crushed his vocabulator, "If you'll just—_ack_—give me—_ack_—a cycle to explain—_ack_!"

Magmatron pondered the request for a moment the released the raptor in annoyance; "One cycle, Dinobot," he growled waving his index finger in Dinobot's face, "Starting now, and it had better be good."

Dinobot rose to his full height slowly, regaining his composure and demeanor as he did; "It's better than 'good,' Lord Magmatron," he assured confidently with a sinister grin, "These three mechs who supported the Maximals bore the same insignias as our _beloved_ Planet Leader Scourge and his entourage that followed him."

"Is that so?" Magmatron's interest peaked, "They're probably ambassadors from Cybertron, no doubt, wondering why their 'allies' haven't been in contact for so long. How very intriguing."

"Cybertron?" Dinobot echoed with confusion, "What's Cybertron?"

"Ah, yes, I forget; Scourge's tale is before your time. I'll explain it at a later time. For now, tell me more about out Autobot _friends_."

Dinobot obediently retold the events of the jungle battle without giving so much as a second thought to the mentioning of Cybertron.

The story behind the Predacon Dinobot is a long, sad tale, and though he personally did not remember it, Magmatron knew it as though he had written it himself—in fact, he practically did; the latter half of it, at any rate. Originally a Maximal under the leadership of Depth Charge, Dinobot was a coveted warrior in Magmatron's eyes. He would have made the perfect Predacon in his first existence were it not for his deplorable sense of honor and the love of a femme. Dinobot had gone out on call in response to a hostage situation in Predacon territory against his commander's better judgment, the majority of the Maximals believing it was a trap. That proved too true when the "hostages" turned out to be nothing more than piles of scraps and spare parts. Dinobot was badly damaged in the following Predacon ambush but only enough to incapacitate him. Thus _he_ became a trap for his fellow Maximals, but when a small scouting party had come to get him, he sacrificed himself to give the outnumbered Maximals time to acquire backup. It was considered the noblest act of valor by both Maximal and Predacon alike, and for seven solar cycles a planet-wide truce was put into effect in the fallen warrior's honor. This solitary act of compassion was what set the Predacons in a league far higher than the far more numerous Decepticons that the rest of the known galaxy was familiar with.

However, such chivalry could not last amidst even "noble" Predacons—if such terms could be used for them—as Magmatron set into motion his new plan to strike down his Maximal adversaries. He had acquired a piece of Dinobot's armor, which contained bits and pieces of the Maximal warrior's personality program, not to mention his energy signature—which worked a lot like the unique DNA in organics. Using that bit of armor and a blank protoform unit, Magmatron began work on reviving Dinobot in his own image. Unfortunately, Dinobot's spark had already bonded with the Matrix, and there was no way to bring it back. Therefore, Magmatron took half a spark from one of his strongest warriors—Rampage, a maniacal and miserable immortal Predacon—and used it to bring the new Dinobot life. Then, a second misfortune befell Magmatron during the experiment in that there was not enough data in the miniscule sliver of Dinobot's armor to fully reconstruct his exostructure. So, the Predacon leader—at the suggestion of his scientist Tarantulas—used the fossilized bones of an organic velociraptor to make up for the gaps in Dinobot's energy signature and exostructure. The combination also resulted in the creation of the very first Transmetal Beast Transformer, as Dinobot emerged as a steel-alloy, bone-ivory skeleton of his former self with a few extra tricks built in.

Dinobot himself had no memories of his life as a Maximal, and Magmatron took advantage of this when he first sent the raptor into battle against his enemies. Magmatron was truly amazed at how well his plan went! It broke the Maximals' fighting spirit to see this was hero fight against them, and even when they learned his memories of them were nonexistent, they still could not bring themselves to fight back. This nearly cost them heavily, and when Draga, the femme who had held Dinobot's favor, tried to reason with the new Predacon—to somehow jog his memory—that was when the reality hit the Maximals that their old friend was gone for good. At first, Dinobot II seemed to come around, luring Draga closer. This proved to be a trap when the raptor silently targeted the dragon with his line-of-sight laser embedded in his left optic sensor. Depth Charge recognized the danger first and acted fast, diving into Draga to get her out of the way just as Dinobot fired the would-be fatal shot! Rattrap was the second to come to his senses and opened fire on Dinobot whom he officially deemed an "imposter." Eventually, all of the Maximals regained their resolve and began to fight back. Even so, they had taken heavy losses and were forced to retreat, allotting the Predacons to claim their first true victory in the war. They took the first of ten communication bunkers and began their planet-wide quarantine; the rest, as they say, is history.

When Dinobot concluded his report of recent events, Magmatron allowed a sinister grin to stretch across his metallic face; "How very interesting," he mused, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, "It's one thing to be…how shall we say it... _honored_ by a visit from Cybertron, but how much more intriguing that one of them so young in his life cycle wields a power that could rival that of Primus?"

"That's not exactly what I said," Dinobot attempted to correct his superior, "Sure, the weapon was immensely powerful, but it cold hardly match a deity like Primus. Furthermore, it appeared and disappeared sporadically like it had a will of its own. The boy had very little real control over it, if he had any control at all."

"Even better! It's a sentient power dwelling symbiotically within the young mech's mainframe. That means it can be removed and placed into another, more deserving exostructure—not unlike my own, if I do say so myself. If it's what I think it is—and even if it's not—it must be extracted from him and transplanted into me."

"What exactly do you think it is, oh mighty Magmatron?"

"In due time, my friend…tell me, where is Tarantulas?"

"Dispatching Black Arachnia to gain a sample of the energy from the Autobot youth. He himself should be returning to base within the next thirty megacycles "

"Perfect! Have them both report back to me once they've completed this task. In the meantime, go repair yourself. I can't be having any of my soldiers functioning at less than half capacity when we go after the Maximals and their new Autobot friends."

"As you command, Magmatron."

Dinobot saluted then transformed to beast mode. He turned and stalked towards the rear of the computer room to the CR Chambers for repair, leaving Magmatron to his devious thoughts.

Magmatron himself then left the room, retreating to his private quarters, and began pondering the possibilities of this new turn of events. _That sword,_ he thought to himself, _by Dinobot's report, it was made up of the same substance of light that had spirited Scourge away…or at least something very similar. I need Tarantulas here to know for sure._

A secret Magmatron had kept from the rest of his faction was that he along with Tarantulas had infiltrated Scourge's mountain temple at the time of the Dragon's disappearance. They had actually witnessed the apparent abduction of Jungle Planet's leader, but before they could capitalize on the Maximals' misfortune, they were thrown back and out of the mountain by the force of the odd energy beam. Magmatron was knocked off-line after crashing into a boulder, but Tarantulas managed to stay conscious by transforming to beast mode and cushioning his fall with his thick spider legs. He was able to drag Magmatron back to the Predacon base before anyone even knew they were gone. Since then, Magmatron had had Tarantulas working on duplicating that power, but up until the unexpected arrival of these Autobots, there was never any such luck. However, even though he could not yet get that power, he did manage to obtain Scourge's throne after Tarantulas had infiltrated the abandoned mountain once more and stole the coveted seat for his leader.

"But it won't be long now," he mused aloud, "Soon, I'll hold the very power that obliterated Scourge in the palm of my hand, and with it, I'll bring all of Jungle Planet under my rule! Oh, why stop at the planet? I can take that power and spread my name to the furthest reaches of the universe! Mwahahahaha!"

"Magmatron, sir!" Sidewinder burst into the chamber unannounced and uninvited, startling Magmatron and causing him to fall out of his seat, "You're needed in the command room, sir!"

Magmatron was back on his feet and glowering in Sidewinder's face in less than a nano click; "Knock on my door!" he bellowed, "_Knock_ next time!"

"Sorry, sir!" Sidewinder saluted, straight-faced and unaffected by Magmatron's outburst, "Won't happen again!"

"Good…what did you witness?"

"Nothing, sir. I did not hear your over-exaggerated plan for universal domination again. Nor did I see you fall out of your seat like a frightened Sparkling in an Energon storm."

Magmatron raised an optic ridge at Sidewinder in annoyance, but as usual, the snake did not even flinch; "Good," he dismissed him bitterly as he gathered himself and left the chamber. _I've got to get those locks repaired, _he thought embarrassingly as he entered the command room; "All right," he spoke sternly to those present, "what seems to be the big emergency?"

"It's Scorponok, sir," Goliath, a goliath bird-eating spider, answered, "his tail was severed during the battle against the Maximals!"

"What! You brought me out here to tell me of your injuries? That's not an urgent situation! Dunk him in the CR chamber! His tail will grow back just like it always does. Morons! I have morons within my team!"

"But, Magmatron, sir, he was carrying vital information in his interface module! Not only did he have the codes to the communication bunker in South Jungle, but the coordinates to our base are encoded in there!"

Magmatron's demeanor changed almost instantly; "Well, what are you fools waiting for?" he shouted, "Permission? Get your skid-plates out to South Jungle and retrieve that information! Idiots! Do I have to hold your servos like Sparklings? GO!"

The Predacons stumbled—much to Magmatron's chagrin—to get organized for a possible battle against the Maximals and their new Autobot allies. Goliath led the team out since Dinobot was spending some much-needed time in the CR Chamber. Soon Magmatron was once again left alone in peace.

"Now," he said to himself, "back to planning my universal domination X3"

"Magmatron!" a new voice reached the Predacon leader's receptors startling him once more.

"What the slag?" Magmatron complained after catching himself for the second time that day, "Is this 'Give Magmatron a Spark-Attack' Day?"

"My apologies, Magmatron," the unmistakable hiss of Tarantulas' voice echoed in the near-empty chamber, "but I have some information that might interest you concerning the recent events that you have no doubt heard from Dinobot."

Immediately Magmatron forgot about his subordinate Predacons' ignorance regarding Scorponok's tail; "Ah!" he exclaimed, "Has Black Arachnia recovered a sample of that power?"

"Not as such," Tarantulas answered with a devious chuckle, "but be patient, she is currently hunting the Autobots and will get the sample within the next few megacycles. I, however, have come on a different matter—well, it's a similar matter. The energy put forth by the youth we encountered holds the exact same properties as that which obliterated Scourge."

"I suspected as much," Magmatron responded with controlled glee, "the question is: can it be expunged from that mech's mainframe and downloaded into another?"

"I don't know, but if Black Arachnia can handle the power with her mimic ability, then that'll prove it can be transferred…if she can't, it could destroy her."

"I'm willing to take that chance. Follow after the troop and observe, but don't get involved in the battle—just watch and see if Black Arachnia succeeds or fails, then report back to me."

Tarantulas snickered as he transformed to beast and disappeared through one of the rear tunnels of the base. Magmatron steepled his fingers and chuckled darkly; _Soon,_ h6e thought, _very, very soon…_


	17. Chapter 16: Enter the Dragoness

Chapter Sixteen:  
Enter the Dragoness

Blurr and his team made it back to the clearing of South Jungle without incident. Even so, Hotstreak could not help but feel that odd tingle in the back of his mental core that claimed they were being followed. He did not pick anything up on his sensors, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. He shook it from thought as they entered the clearing. The ground was badly charred from the fight that had ensued earlier that day.

"When all this is over," Hotstreak said, not really noticing that he was speaking aloud, "we need to help repair this planet."

"In due time, 'Streak," Blurr assured quietly, "for now, let's get that interface module for Rhinox."

The Autobots continued forward with Clocker scouting ahead for enemies. At a glance, the area seemed safe for passage, but Clocker had become quite the tracker since the events of the Cyber Planet Wars; he knew better than to take his surroundings at face value and chose wisely to ere on the side of caution. His audio receptors picked up a soft rustling in the bushes to his right, but nothing was registering on his sensors. _Could be one of the native wild organisms,_ he thought to himself as the bush shook again, _but I'd be a fool to risk our Sparks on a "could be"…better check it out._ Clocker armed his blaster and walked cautiously towards the bush. The large plant rocked violently once more before falling silent. Whatever was behind it had become startled by the robot's presence, but Clocker could not back down and so pushed on. He carefully reached out to the bush and quietly grabbed a couple if branches. Then he quickly pulled the shrub back, simultaneously aiming his blaster at whatever was hiding there!

"What the—?"he spoke aloud in surprise, "Raccoons? Ha, ha, ha! You little guys gave me quite a start! Run along home; it's not safe out in the open for you, all right? Go on, shoo!"

Clocker chuckled to himself as the group of ring-tailed organics scampered away. He himself was about to walk away when something else caught his optics. Aside from the raccoons' prints, the Autobot found larger tracks that obviously could not have been made by the local organics. He knelt down to examine them more closely when he heard the rustling of leaves and braches above him. Instinctively, Clocker dodge-rolled onto his back and aimed his blaster into the forest canopy. Except there was nothing there but the lush, shading boughs of the exotic trees with random rays of sunlight breaking through. Keeping his guard up, Clocker returned to the tracks on the ground, studying them as much as he could before his comlink went off.

_"Hey, Clocker," _Blurr came through, _"see anything?"_

"No," Clocker answered, "but I _do_ think we're being tracked nonetheless."

_"Well, let's regroup. We'll discuss it then."_

"Yes, sir."

The Autobot took one last cautious glance into the trees before finally walking away. As the mech left the bush, the lurker slowly poked its head out from the cover of the forest canopy. Black Arachnia glared after Clocker with mild interest mixed with disgust.

"Oh, just great," she seethed in a hissing, nasally voice, "an _uber_ tracker. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. I had better stick to the tree tops for now."

She hoisted herself back up into the trees to continue her surveillance.

Back on the ground, Clocker rejoined Blurr and Hotstreak and reiterated that he felt they were being followed; "The tracks were elongated," he was saying, "and separated in two segments: the heel and possibly a front claw. Judging by the sporadic spacing of the prints, I'd say they were made by a spider. They're too large for any natural organism, so we can assume we have a Predacon on our tail."

"Are you sure?" Hotstreak asked, "Not to question your tracking abilities, Clocker, but wouldn't we have detected another 'bot on our sensors?"

"That's not necessarily so. Did you notice when Depth Charge came out of the pond in beast mode? I don't know if you two were paying attention, but the manta ray didn't register on my sensors until he transformed to robot mode."

"What are you suggesting?" Blurr asked, "That their beast modes act as cloaking devices?"

"Something like that…my theory is the organic tissue in their animal hide armor can confuse pure machines. With the exception of a few, the Maximals' and Predacons' armor is at least ninety-five percent organic and pretty much causes the inner structure to assume the identity of the beast, effectively hiding—or possibly disabling—their energy signatures from detection. It is _possible _that a machine living in a one hundred percent organic environment _could_ adapt an organic nature in order to continue to exist."

"But…" Hotstreak hesitated, feeling the question he was about to ask sounded ludicrous even in his head, "…but wouldn't _that_ suggest that _all_ Transformers have some sort of organic roots?"

Clocker nodded, easing Hotstreak's mind; "Sure," he answered, "but that's nothing new. You're much too young to know about it, but Autobot scientists have been tossing that theory around for centuries. There has been no proof of it, not even after the emergence of 'beast-formers,' but it's still an open theory."

"Whoa, save the history lesson, guys," Blurr announced suddenly, "I think we've found the bug's tail!"

Hotstreak and Clocker looked in the direction Blurr was pointing, and sure enough, there it was; Scorponok's tail lay there in the middle of the clearing reflecting what little bit of sunlight broke through the intertwined ceiling of branches. The Autobots armed themselves in case of an ambush then slowly approached their target.

In the trees above, Black Arachnia watched her prey. According to the data given her by Tarantulas, the youngest mech in the shiny blue armor was the one who supposedly possessed the power Magmatron was after. _Slag,_ she cursed to herself,_ there's no way I'll be able to do this while they're in a group! I've got to split them up somehow…oh, wait! I know!_

"Area's clear," Clocker reported.

"I don't like this," Blurr said, "It's way too easy."

"Well," Hotstreak shrugged, "the best way to deal with an obvious trap is to spring it before they can take you off guard."

The others seemed to agree as they moved closer. Hotstreak reached out for the severed tail, but before he could touch it, their stalker revealed herself! The giant black and purple black widow spider flipped down on top of the tail into a defensive crouching position with her front legs poised up like a pair of snake's fangs.

"Back off!" she demanded, "I don't want to hurt any of you, but one small dose of my cyber venom could knock thirty of you into Stasis Lock before your CPUs even register it! This tail is Predacon property; I'll be taking back, so don't try to stop me!"

"Stand down, spider," Blurr responded, "We just want the interface module. The data in that device is property of a young Maximal. You can keep the tail once we have that."

Black Arachnia hissed and swung her front legs in warning; "I'm sorry!" she spoke almost apologetically, "I can't let you come any closer! Magmatron will have me destroyed if I fail again!"

The Autobots exchanged perplexed and disbelieving glances. There was no way she was telling the truth, but they as Autobots could not take that risk. For all they knew, the she-spider was just stalling for her Predacon comrades, but she sounded like it was all against her will. Blurr decided it best to question her further.

"Considering this _Magmatron_ has sent _anyone_ to retrieve a replaceable limb," he observed sneakily, "it would seem to me that he'd much rather keep you alive and in one piece in order to better serve him. Besides, I've seen the Predacons' observance of 'honor among thieves.' They protect their own…why would he want to destroy you for any reason?"

"Yes, they protect their own, but unlike the Maximals, they _don't_ care what happens to their prisoners," Black Arachnia answered, "Don't let this Predacon symbol fool you ; I was once a Maximal like Dinobot, except they couldn't reprogram me. Magmatron instead had Tarantulas implant an explosive device in the core of my structure as incentive to obey them. All this frivolous nonsense for my espionage and sabotage skills!"

Blurr was obviously unconvinced; "What do you think, Clocker?" he asked.

"Well," Clocker answered, "she's telling the truth. Either that or she's a slagging good liar. At any rate, I detect no deception in her resonator."

"Of course, I'm telling the truth!" Black Arachnia protested.

"I'm going to go with 'slagging good liar'," Blurr scoffed.

"Believe what you want, off-worlder! Now back away or I'll be forced to destabilize your mega-structures!"

Hotstreak stepped in this time before Blurr could speak again; "Hold on a nano," he said as he holstered his weapon and carefully walked up to the defensive Predacon, "maybe we can help each other out. If you would just let us get that interface module, we can leave the tail here for the Predacons to find…they never even have to know that we—or you—were here. Then we can take you to Rhinox; I'm sure he'd be more than willing to remove that explosive from your body, and then you could be a Maximal again."

"Ha…I doubt you could convince them that I'm still a Maximal after everything I've done," Black Arachnia began to relax, "but how could I say 'no' to someone with such a cute face like you? All right, you have a deal, but hurry! Tarantulas and the Predacons are probably on their way!"

As the she-spider stood down and away from Scorponok's tail, she chuckled sadistically to herself. _I can't believe they fell for that goody-goody routine,_ she thought with glee as she activated her silent tracking device, _what a bunch of saps! Now it's up to Tarantulas; he'd better make it look good if I'm to siphon the mech's power!_

"I'm not sure about her," Blurr spoke quietly as he set to work removing the tip of Scorponok's severed tail, "You took an awful big risk making that deal with her."

"She seems harmless enough," Hotstreak responded with a shrug, "plus, Clocker said he detected no deceit, right?"

"You're blinded by the fact she's a femme," Blurr chastised the younger mech calmly, "because you seem to have forgotten that Clocker also said he can't detect her presence in her beast mode. She could be stalling, allowing the other Predacons to surround us. Don't be fooled by her appearance…we need to be extra cautious just _because_ she's a femme."

"Nah…you're overloading your circuits over nothing. You'll see."

"I hope you're right, 'Streak, I really do."

Blurr had almost gotten the interface module free when Black Arachnia suddenly transformed to her robot form and pointed her blaster in the Autobots' direction. Blurr gave Hotstreak an obvious "I-told-you-so" look, but before he could say anything, the femme shouted at them.

"Look out!" she cried in warning just as a giant king cobra launched itself at them from the grass, "It's Sidewinder!"

Blurr and Hotstreak split in opposite directions just as Black Arachnia fired at the snake making perfect contact in his gaping mouth. Hotstreak returned the "told-you-so" look to Blurr after seeing this, but the Autobot leader was too preoccupied to notice. He was still holding Scorponok's tail in his hand as they were all surrounded by a troop of Predacons that was far larger than that which had battled them earlier. The large tarantula called Tarantulas pushed his way to the front and transformed to robot mode. The other Predacons followed suit.

"My dear Black Arachnia," Tarantulas said with an amused chuckle, "did you really think you could defy Magmatron and _not_ pay the price for it? Oh, you are a fool, indeed!"

"Hey, bug off, eight-eyes!" Hotstreak shouted, "As long as I have anything to say about it, she doesn't have to take orders from you anymore. This I swear as an Autobot!"

Black Arachnia stepped in front of him and held up a hand; "While I appreciate the chivalry, handsome," she said with a slight annoyance, "the fact is you _don't_ have a say in it. Plus, I'm more than capable of defending myself from Legs here." She aimed her blaster at the center of Tarantulas' chest plate and grinned; "I've waited a long time for this…"

"Frankly, my dear," Tarantulas chortled, "so have I!"

Without another nano click to spare, Black Arachnia fired upon Tarantulas keeping her aim straight and true. Tarantulas, however, proved even sneaker than a spider should be allowed as he jumped over the three rounds that came at him. In an instant he stood directly in front of Black Arachnia, towering menacingly over her.

"You should have made your shots count, witch!" he snarled, "Now, reap the reward for your mistake _and_ your treachery!"

It only took a moment for everyone to notice that Tarantulas had the barrel of his own blaster pressed against Black Arachnia's mid-section and less time than that for the mech to pull the trigger! Black Arachnia was sent flying through the woods, screaming until she was no longer within sight or sound. Blurr, though still unconvinced of the she-spider's loyalties, was greatly disgusted by what he saw. _Whatever side she was on is irrelevant,_ he declared to himself, _no one deserves to be terminated like that! _He could see that Hotstreak was angry, too, and he feared the younger mech's judgment might become clouded by rage much as at it had been at _Seta Alpha Five_ when he had lost Blade Stryke.

"Hotstreak, go find her," Blurr commanded, "and if she's still functional, take her to Rhinox."

"But—" Hotstreak protested.

"_That's_ an order! I've got what they really want; Clocker and I can handle this, now go!"

Hotstreak yielded to command and took off into the jungle following Black Arachnia's trajectory. Then Blurr faced Tarantulas angrily but calmly and raised the limp tail off the ground like a fisherman showing off an impressive "catch of the day."

"I've seen," Blurr said, "Decepticons treat their _captives_ better than you Predacons treat your own kind."

"Hee, hee, hee," Tarantulas chuckled, "things are not always what they seem to be here on Jungle Planet, Autobot. It would do you well to remember this when our little skirmish sees us the victors!"

Blurr raised an optic ridge humorously; "I don't think so!" he lifted the tail to his optic level and produced an Energon blade from the top of his wrist joint, swiftly cutting the interface module from its port off the tip of the tail.

The battle was on with the Predacons maintaining their elliptical perimeter around the two Autobots. Blurr and Clocker stood back-to-back returning fire effectively and beating the odds for the most part. However, they were wearing down, and Tarantulas knew it.

"Move in for the kill!" he ordered.

The Predacons began closing the gap between them and the Autobots, leaving the latter with no way to escape. Then, just when it seemed the inevitable had come to pass, a deafening roar echoed throughout all directions of the jungle. Tarantulas looked to the sky immediately, practically forgetting the Autobots before him.

"What?" he cried out startled, "Oh, no! The she-dragon! Predacons, retreat! Retreat!"

However, the Predacons were not quick enough as a black and silver organic dragon descended the forest canopy with intense ferocity. On the ground, the dragon was accompanied by three others: a dark brown dilophosaurus, a spotted hyena, and a golden-tan dingo. Their numbers were insignificant compared to that of the Predacons', but what they lacked in quantity they made up for in speed, teamwork, and raw power. For a moment, Blurr and Clocker felt a bit of déjà vu, except this time it was _their_ chasses being rescued!

The dragon swooped down swiftly, grabbing up Predacons with all four of its massive claws and dropping them from high altitudes or smashing them into each other. The dilophosaurus, with its neck fins fully fanned out, spat techno-venom with excellent precision, damaging circuits and optic sensors while the hyena and dingo pounced the Predacons, chewing and slashing exostructures and wires just like the pack hunters from which they had taken form. Somehow, they all managed to avoid sending the Predacons into Stasis Lock or destroying them all together. Near as the remaining Autobots could tell, these were the rogue Maximal scouts they had heard about from Grimlock and his team, and that dragon—or more accurately _dragoness_—was the one called Draga.

Finally, the defeated and damaged Predacons were in full retreat, clearly outmatched by the small Maximal team. Draga, the leader, landed on all fours in front of Blurr. Up close, her elegance was most visible, though she was not very large in her beast form—probably about the size of a full-grown stallion, not counting the length of her neck, tail, and wingspan. For the most part, Draga was coal-black save for her claws, mane, back spikes, and underside which were a glistening silver. Her optic sensors were red to match the mythic history of her beast form. Just as beautifully as she had landed, Draga transformed to robot mode. Her transformation only took place from the midsection up as she reared back on her hind legs. Her back plate opened to allow her robot arms to fold out and beast arms to fold in. The dragon head folded down onto her chest plate as her real head exacted from within the fold, and her tail wrapped snugly around her hip joints then spiraled down her right leg. Her wings remained the same, but Draga brought them down around her shoulders much like a countess' cape. At full height in robot mode, Draga stood up to just barely above Blurr's shoulders.

"Are you damaged?" she asked smoothly.

"They, um…" Blurr stammered then cleared his resonator, "They never had a chance to attack before, uh…before you showed up."

"Naturally. I am Draga, but I'm sure you already learned that from whatever stories Depth Charge and his team had told you. However, now is not the time for pleasantries; we're not safe out here. Where is your third member? He's in greater danger than the rest of us.

Noting Blurr's speechlessness, Clocker jumped in; "He's tending to a downed Maximal," he said, "several kilometers to the west."

Draga gave the Autobots an odd look then turned to the dilophosaurus who snapped his twin-crested head up and back sniffing the air while still in beast mode. His neck flaps were folded down now giving him a more benevolent appearance. He trilled softly before speaking.

"I detect no Maximal signatures," he said with a hiss, "within a five-mile radius besides ourselves, Draga, but I am picking up a diminishing Predacon signature from that same direction."

Draga nodded then turned to the dingo who was sniffing and pawing at the ground; "It's the spider-sheila," he reported with an Australian accent, "Looks like you blokes fell for one of Black Arachnia's little tricks."

"Never mind that, Howler," Draga admonished turning back to Blurr, "We need to find your friend _before_ he finds Arachnia. She has the ability to drain energy to a critical level and mimic weapons from the stolen power…I saw what happened the first time you bots fought our Pred neighbors, and believe me: you do _not_ want that spider obtaining that kind of power."

Blurr finally came out of his stupor when he heard that Hotstreak was in potential danger; "I had a feeling she was bad news," he said, shaking his head as though coming out of a deep dream, "She tried to convince us that she was a Maximal under Predacon control."

"_Tried to_, mate?" Howler echoed in amusement, "Looks more like she succeeded, don't you think?"

"Howler!" Draga raised her voice slightly.

"What? I was just—"

"Zip it. They're off-worlders; they couldn't have known for certain, but another mistake like that could cost you your sparks. Next time, you ought to maintain communications with someone who could have warned you. Now, let's move before your boy earns himself a one-way pass to the Matrix."

Hotstreak trudged through the thick jungle in the general direction that Tarantulas' blast had sent Black Arachnia flying with high hopes of finding her online and in one piece. A weak moan emanated from a couple of feet to the west, so the Autobot turned and picked up the pace until he found the badly damaged femme lying on her side in a small clearing.

"Black Arachnia!" he cried out as he sprinted towards her, "Are you still functional?"

The widow tried to sit up, but it proved impossible through the damaged circuitry in her joints. Hotstreak knelt beside her and half cradled her in his arms, rolling her over onto her back. It was then that Hotstreak noticed the critical hole in the femme's torso as small electrical surges were trying to cross broken wires.

"I've got to get you to Rhinox fast," the Autobot spoke quietly as he tried to lift Black Arachnia up.

"I'll…never make it…Handsome," the spider-bot protested wearily, "I'll be offline within…five cycles unless I—no…I couldn't do that…"

"What is it? Just tell me, please."

"Well…I could _borrow_…energy from you. It won't…save me, but…it'll keep me…online until we reach a…med bot. I can't…ask that of you…though. It's dangerous…for you."

"I'm not worried about that. Just tell me what to do to make it work."

"All you have to do is…stand there…while I interface…but you'll have to warn me…when your Energon…gets too low."

Hotstreak nodded in understanding as he helped Black Arachnia to her knees. She supported herself by holding on to the mech's forearms, and one she was steadied, she produced twin purple-tipped mandibles from her shoulders. Suddenly, her demeanor shifted from benevolent to malevolent as she stabbed her mandibles fiercely through Hotstreak's chest plate. The pain hit him hard and fast though at first he thought nothing of it as he felt his energy reserves dwindling. The hole in Black Arachnia's exostructure became smaller with each ounce of energy she stole, but she kept draining Hotstreak long after she had gotten what she needed. His survival instincts kicked in as he struggled to stay online.

"Bla…Black Arachnia," he spoke weakly, "Energon…too low…let up…"

The femme only laughed at her prey's pleas; "Let up?" she mocked, "You fool! You should have known better than to trust a black widow spider! Magmatron wants that power you have stored in your core, and I intend to bring it to him. A shame, really…you have such a handsome face."

"You're…not…a Maximal…after all…"

"No. Never was. You should have listened to your leader."

She laughed again as she sped up the draining process. Hotstreak cried out in pain, and as he did so, he felt the power of the All Spark coming to his aid. However, as the mystical blue haze materialized, it was sucked up into Black Arachnia's mainframe! _No_, Hotstreak thought, _can't let this power fall to them…and…it will destroy her…_Hotstreak was suddenly surprised by his thoughts. Even after her deception, he was still thinking about her safety.

"Black…Arachnia…" he strained, "you…gotta stop…you're not…capable…of holding…that power…you're…going…to destroy…yourself!"

"Do I look as stupid as you?" Black Arachnia giggled as she continued the drain, "I won't fall for your pitiful attempts to stop me!"

Hotstreak called out once more from another surge of energy leaving him. _This has to stop!_ he thought, and as though the All Spark had heard him, Hotstreak was enveloped by the blue aura. He concentrated all his willpower into pulling the energy towards him as he grabbed a hold of the mandibles in his chest plate. He let out a world-shattering scream as he pulled them from his chest plate, releasing an unblockable wave of energy directly at the Predacon femme. It was accidental, but it did the trick. Black Arachnia was push back into a tree, ending the draining of his Energon. However, the blast itself left the Autobot defenseless as Black Arachnia staggered to her feet.

"It doesn't matter, Autobot," she heaved, "I've got what Magmatron wants…and you'll be offline soon enough. Beast Mode!"

She transformed and took off south.

Hotstreak leaned up against a nearby rock and watched as the femme disappeared without even attempting to finish him off. He was leaking mech fluids from both holes in his chest plate, and he was seeing static through his optics…she had an ample opportunity to offline him herself even after taking that last direct hit. _To…tired to…ponder it…_he thought as he began slipping from consciousness.

"Damage: Critical," Hotstreak's computer diagnosed, "Stasis Lock: Commencing."

Hotstreak blacked out to the sound of approaching footsteps.


End file.
